B & D
by Silberias
Summary: Ten years later and Bonnie hasn't aged, which pleases Damon to no end despite the questions it arises. Who is making her this way and why? Bears no resemblance whatsoever to TV series **Currently on hiatus because I am living an hour away from the file**
1. Chapter 1

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Well, this is the start of a story which I'll update every week, on sunday mornings. It has 94 pages completed on the word processor. **I don't own Bonnie or Damon, but I do love the idea that they would get together.** I'm sorry that this doesn't even begin to measure up to the longest completed D/B fic on here, Bloodlust. I have read that...and it is the best. Sticks to everything, everyone is normal, no OOC, and Damon gets the redhead. I am happy with that. 

This story is set 10 (or something) years after all that happened. I started writing it about 4 years ago...so it is...ya get it.

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Prologue

Bonnie turned over in her sleep, trying to fight the dream that she knew was going to come. The usual blur of images, all of them, flashed behind her eyelids. Whirling colors slowed and gained definition, becoming the scene that she had dreamed of for eleven and a half years. Bonnie's face seemed resigned as she allowed herself to slip into the familiar sensations.

The clearing was cool and more than a little damp from the rain. He had just explained to these people why he was not like them. Everyone was looking at Damon, so pale even after the angelic healing Elena had given him, in different shades of wonder and exasperation at his conclusion.

* * *

"Damon—" She wanted him to stay, he had shown her something of himself, the part that still loved his brother. Bonnie had wanted to find out if there was anything else that had driven Damon through his long life. 

Though she knew how this dream ended, she fought to keep him there, so he could speak to her. She fought because even in sleep she wanted him to talk with her. But instead of when she felt the mixture of his confused emotions, she nearly awoke at the shock she received.

"Yes?" The Damon of her dream had solidified, bringing the sharp contrast between his pale face and dark hair and his entrancing eyes to her complete attention. Bonnie was only mildly surprised when the other characters in her dream started to fade into the dark edges of her vision. The only thing that was alarming was that she could feel Damon's Power pulling at the strings of this vision, pulling at her.

"Why are you here?" The question popped out of her mouth before Bonnie could haul herself together.

"To see you Bonnie. Why else would I go to this trouble?" His cool voice, the one that could turn hard and icy in an instant, was slightly joking as if he thought his little game was the next best thing to the verbal fencing he played with his brother, Stefan.

"Why would you do that? You left; I didn't want you to leave at all. Any fool of a lesser Line would have seen it, so don't tell me that you didn't know, Damon Salvatore." He seemed to be taken aback by this remark, but only a little. Though Bonnie knew it was just a dream, she felt embarrassed at what she had just babbled to him, because Damon of real life had heard her in this lucid dream that she was having.

"Perhaps I will tell you another time little NaLal." The startling smile was gone in an instant and the dream ended in the sharp pain and dull thud of having rolled out of bed.

* * *

Bonnie shuddered at what her brain had imagined. She could remember his lips against hers, so soft, so cool. She could remember his hands softening on her arms. But Bonnie could also feel those hands instantly releasing her when they both heard Matt. Bonnie still felt everything; she felt everything she had ever felt towards Damon: fear, happiness, suspicion, pain, even that seemingly ill-timed passion. 

"Maybe I _do_ love him, Sabbath, like Monika said when she visited on the Solstice. But that's Monika, silly and gossipy as a bird and just as secretive, so she might have been making fun of me. You remember Monika Avian, don't you Sabbath?" The black cat yawned, revealing razor sharp teeth that were perfectly white, indicating what she thought of Monika. Bonnie smiled at the lanky little animal and shook her head. The little old lady inside the cat was very particular when it came to people.

Bonnie left her bed and walked through her house to the airplane hangar. The hangar was dark and the lights wouldn't turn on, and Bonnie's mood went from neutral good to sarcastic anger. _Great, peachy and wonderful. Spectacular_, Bonnie thought as she fumbled around to the circuit breakers to see if the lights would turn on with them. They didn't. _Brilliant_. Sighing, she stumbled through the mess that came with owning an airplane.

A loud "ow!" and several curses rent the air as Bonnie became what airplane owners call a "Cessna Head." Caused by the diamond shaped tapering ends of the wings of Cessna Aircraft, these are rather nasty little cuts that almost always leave scars. Furious, Bonnie fought her way through the rest of the hangar to her bicycle, which thankfully didn't have any other dangers than that of falling over.

Bonnie cursed her love of flying and laughed at the same time because now she was an initiate of the Cessna Heads of the World. Bonnie touched her forehead, and when she dared to look at the tips of her fingers she found that they were dotted with blood. Bonnie sat there staring at the red liquid, angry at herself for getting such a freak injury.

When she had finished berating herself, Bonnie whispered a small healing spell. Though too weak to completely heal the wounds, it would have to do. Bonnie examined her work and then with a call to the spirits of wind, she pedaled off in a streak of red and blue-black.

* * *

The crow landed under the streetlight on the dark taxiway tarmac and walked over to the shadows surrounding it. The sky was dark as Damon used his Power to shape the light how he wanted it. He was betting on the fact that Bonnie wouldn't recognize the scent of his Power while she planned on what to do for her little idiot patient. Once the last vampiric spell was laid, he stepped into the light for the first time in human form. 

The bluish light made him look white with the pallor of his skin. His face was one that could make a person do anything, rational or not, because of what they saw there. His eyes held a compelling mix of hidden motives and shadows in them. The straight Roman nose could have been swiped off of ancient coinage. His mouth was something that generations of sculptors had strived desperately for and failed miserably. The rest of him, lean body, night dark hair, and elegant limbs, held just as much mystery and poise that the word "handsome" was a useless word, Damon more than defined _handsome_, he was what writers thought of when they wanted a word that just didn't exist. Damon was something that drove most people to the edge of madness, where some had teetered and fell. He paused to muse on this as he waited.

Damon stopped his musings as he heard the _tick, tick, tick, tick, tick_ of Bonnie's bicycle. The sound was slow, and he heard her footsteps echoing slightly in the night air.

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Okay, I'm not completely married to the idea that I will just copy and paste every Sunday morning, if you want me to do something, review and kindly ask for it. Love you all for reading!

Review!

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	2. Chapter 2

Well, this is the start of a story which I'll update every week, on sunday mornings. It has 94 pages completed on the word processor. **I don't own Bonnie or Damon, but I do love the idea that they would get together.** I'm sorry that this doesn't even begin to measure up to the longest completed D/B fic on here, Bloodlust. I have read that...and it is the best. Sticks to everything, everyone is normal, no OOC, and Damon gets the redhead. I am happy with that. 

This story is set 10 (or something) years after all that (books, not bloodlust) happened. I started writing it about 4 years ago...so it is...ya get it.

* * *

Bonnie dimly sensed something _different_ about the air around her, but she was too busy thinking of the "following" curse she would put on Joel and Emily. It wasn't even really a curse; it had been mainly used on ancient caravans so they could stick together at a moment's notice. Joel had unknowingly gotten his companion of eternity, whether he liked her or not, because Bonnie would be the only one who could call off the curse and Joel was to Stefan as Stefan was to Klaus. 

At the edge of shadow and light, she stopped. She couldn't ignore this, it was vampire magic, and Bonnie was impressed by the amount of raw Power in the area, the smell of it was so vibrant that she couldn't even place how old the particular vampire was. Bonnie wasn't even sure why she had stopped so suddenly at this edge of light and dark, maybe it was the fact that there was no grey between the two, and that the light seemed ominous to her without the transition. _This isn't scary_; she assured herself as she lowered the bike to the ground and stepped into the light, while a small sadistic part of her was stating exactly how such a powerful vampire could torture her and exactly how long it would take her to die. She walked into the center of the circle of light, and looked around.

The light cut off about twelve feet away in every direction and ended in unreadable shadow. Bonnie swore in language that would have shocked her friends, while striding quickly forward, praying it wasn't the spell she thought it was. She punched the shadow and, to her relief, her hand went through with only moderate difficulty, though she couldn't see it on the other side. But the relief faded in the next instant when she slammed into solid matter as she tried to follow the appendage. As she swore again she thought she heard mental laughter emanating from the shadows.

Deciding she wanted to be away from the walls, Bonnie returned to the middle of the light and sat down disconsolately. The vampire could leave her here for days, and no one would notice her or even see her while she was the resident of this light filled tomb. She checked her watch, it said 7:04. Just under an hour to get to the Salem Morgue and she was in Independence, 23 miles away.

"_Damn__ you_, damn you to hell you despicable _leech_, if I could get out I'd break the laws of my line and kill you!" She said softly to the air around her. Restless, she got up and walked around her new prison, boldly trickling her fingers through the shadowy walls that prevented her from giving a ring to Emily when the girl woke up. The faint connection that she had felt when she had punched the shadow greeted her fingers coolly.

"I thought you would be fiercely examining the Power in the shadows to figure out _who_ your captor is before you went off on the 'I will kill you' rant…I am also taken aback by your lack of concern for your own safety, because if I wasn't in such a good mood, I'd be fairly angry with you right now, Bonnie." Said a soft voice Bonnie thought she recognized, but her thoughts were interrupted before she could place who, as the soothing, nameless voice continued, "You know, I had hoped you would start chanting some druidic spell to blast me to Kingdom Come, but so far you haven't. So I guess I shall have to give you a reason." Bonnie heard a step behind her and whirled to face it.

"Damon!" Was all she could cry out before she collapsed from both fear and relief. The moment her head hit the tarred asphalt her bluish world of light and shadow darkened as she slipped instantly into unconsciousness, though not before she wondered at why he hadn't moved to catch her.

Damon knelt by the still young woman, and picked up her right hand to look at the ring she wore. It was silver and set with a small midnight blue stone, like the one he wore. Except the stone was only part of the pictorial, as a flower seemed to bloom out of it to sprout a single leaf; this was a Native American design, probably Navajo by the look of the crafting.

"Now why are you wearing such a talisman if you are not a vampire?" he asked the senseless Bonnie, who was sporting a surprised look on her unconscious face. Damon turned her hand over to look at the palm, one long finger caressing the veins clearly visible beneath the skin of her wrist.

"Don't answer now Bonnie, I know why. The girl died in your arms." Sighing, he called on the elements that swirled around him and cooled them to freezing level. He then sent them in an icy wind towards Bonnie. She awoke with a small scream and looked around herself as if she had forgotten where she was. Damon was silent as he watched her.

"Why did you do that?!" She cried when at last she turned to face him, "I just might take you up on blowing you to high heaven! I can do that now, I am—"

"Stop, Bonnie, you'll get hysterical."

"Why? I have every right to get hysterical, Damon!" He was smiling at her, so she paused, "Stop it."

"Stop what?" He was on the verge of laughing at the way this had turned out, "To my knowledge I haven't done anything that merits an engraved invitation to a warmer clime." He stood up in one smooth movement and offered a hand to Bonnie. She reluctantly took it and Damon pulled her up to her feet.

"Why did you do that?" She tried to turn away from him subtly; his striking face was making her feel lightheaded.

"To scare you. You look beautiful when your heart speeds up and—"

"Damon!" Bonnie backed away from him, half flattered and half horrified.

"Come on, Bonnie. We're going to Salem." Damon seemed earnest, but Bonnie had no idea why he was making this effort.

"Why?"

"To go see your patient, why else?" He sounded faintly bored.

"Why are you doing this?" She was suspicious of his motives, as she had been since she began to hear about how vampires lusted after the blood of her family but never tried to procure any. Damon was probably the first vampire who'd kissed a woman whose lineage, even minimally, pointed to NaLal. _But why did he have to choose the Heiress?_

"Driving you to your idiot schizo?" Damon took a step forward, his eyes glittering. The opaque black of them was now making her feel more than lightheaded; it was making her downright drowsy.

"She's not schizophrenic Damon," She protested, openly trying to look away, "She was changed today, but I suppose you are right about the idiot part." Bonnie could see that herself now as her righteous anger had faded and had been replaced by her fear of Damon.

"You needn't be afraid of me," his whole face sobering, as he picked up on her thoughts, "Bonnie, if I hurt you, you could easily set the entire world's witches on my trail, and witches can track any vampire if there are enough of them." He had become deadly serious and Bonnie felt right then that she could trust him on his words.

"So would you like a ride and someone to take care of the little miscreant who caused her to be changed? I suppose you do Bonnie." His easily visible Power reminded her that he was more dangerous than most things she had ever met in her life and that she had to be careful around him, or she could fall into the bottomless expanses of the night. But something nudging her mind made Bonnie go against her better judgment.

"Why not, Damon? I have nothing to lose, besides my _life_, so why not gamble?" She asked him with a sardonic little smile.

"I thought you'd see it that way. Now come, the girl will wake soon, and you don't want to be late for that." He was walking around her hangar, towards the street. Bonnie hurried to follow him across the empty lot beside her home. She noted his black shirt, with the "Dark Side of the Moon" rainbow prism emblem of the back of it. It was the first color she had ever seen him with, and that surprised her. Catching up to him, she saw he wore black sneakers, with blood red laces, and loose black jeans she recognized as a brand that was exclusive to Hot Topic outlets. Bonnie decided she needed to find out what had spurred this change to color in his attire and took the initiative to ask.

"I didn't know you liked Pink Floyd." _That's a simple conversation starter_, she thought as she looked up at him.

"Hmm? Oh…I like them because of the insanity, life, and death scenarios, really well put into words, I think. Oh and the antiauthority thing too." He seemed distracted as he answered her question, as if he was thinking hard on something else. _Dang_, Bonnie said to herself, _he finished the follow-up question before I even asked it._ He walked quickly to an inky black car parked near the next-door-neighbors' sidewalk curb and opened the front passenger door.

"After you, _signorina_" He swept his arm across the empty space the door created in the beautiful Ferrari's side. Bonnie, caught in the moment, curtsied and climbed in. Laughing he closed the door and walked to the driver door and got into the driver seat. "Seatbelts Bonnie; I can't have you rocketing around here getting broken bones," He smiled at her, and Bonnie felt a warmth inside her that she hadn't sensed for over a decade. _He isn't just smiling at me, _she thought; _he is smiling to me, daring me to continue in his game_, "Anyway, if you want broken bones Bonnie, I can do it so much more peacefully and gracefully." This caused her to shudder to herself, despite the warm, comforting feeling inside her veins.

"Can't take a joke anymore Bonnie? I guess that really is what a university will do to someone." Damon seemed mildly hurt by her reaction, but still ready to joke about it.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Bonnie, nothing." He smiled at her, but there was sadness in his gaze, in his face. _Sadness doesn't become him_, she noted, _it really only looks good on Stefan_. Now, as she tried to read his mind, she realized, that all she could pick up was that he wanted to call her something _different_, but it seemed that all the knowledge that she could gather was what he wanted her to gather. _He has such a strong will… _

"Of course I do Bonnie." So he had been reading _her_ mind, but in a passive way, a way in which he only caught the topmost and direct things that popped into her head, like she had been reading his mind.

A glance served well enough to survey the interior. Black leather, rosewood inlays, almost black window tints, and all the elegance Bonnie could imagine. _A genius figured out how to fit all this inside of this tiny car and still leave it spacious,_ was all Bonnie could think of as she took every detail in.

When he glanced over to her, Damon was expecting terrified acceptance of this odd behavior, but instead her dark brown eyes were brimming with questions. _Oh please no questions, Bonnie, not those hurtful questions of all those years ago, oh how I wish I could take it all back!_ Damon realized he was letting his emotions run a little too wild, and he sharply reined them back in. _Something to say! Oh think of anything, come on you idiot, you've gotten worse than Stefan!_

"You've changed." What should have been a polite comment came out as a statement, like a dry remark used to get rid of someone. He wanted to bite his tongue.

"Yeah, so have you Damon." Was the only murmured reply. After making entirely sure that she could not see his mind, he turned onto the main road then accelerated to a cool ninety and began dodging cars to get to the morgue before her patient woke up. Damon's thoughts had only two tracks, and they were chanting alternately between that he did this to not answer her reply or that he should just stop the car and take Bonnie's blood against her will; the reasoning was that Bonnie would be "more fun" than helping with her stupid creature.

To keep his mind off this disturbing secondary track, Damon reached over and turned on the CD player. The car was quiet for a few moments with only the noise from the other vehicles. Bonnie jumped as the speakers began to blare all sorts of clock chimes that accompanied the beginning of his second favorite song on the album.

"Damon, could you turn this down?" Bonnie's voice was barely audible above the noise even as it began tapering off to the bass riff.

_Look, if I don't get my mind off your throat Bonnie, I will pull over to a nice, dark, gravel road and force you. So, music or blood loss and possible death, your choice. _He used his mental Power to communicate over the cacophony that filled the small space in the car.

"Oh"At Bonnie's small reaction Damon looked over at her and startled her with a quick smile.

The rest of the ride was a literal blur, so much so that before the second half of 'Time' began they were pulling into the back lot of the Salem City Morgue.

Damon noted that Bonnie seemed relieved to be out of the enclosed space of the Ferrari and in the open air. Bonnie started walking to the building, but not before shooting Damon a look that dared him to follow her.

* * *

The doors had simply keyed locks and their tumblers were soon in place. Bonnie would have rushed in, but Damon put an arm across the doorway, nearly clothes lining her in the same motion. 

"Wait, the security system is still up, you don't want to set that off do you? I'll take care of it." Bonnie was standing so close to Damon that she felt his Power surge through his skin and into the drab colored building's walls from where his hand touched the doorway. She was enchanted by it. He glanced over to her with his fathomless black eyes and gave a small nod.

The inside of the morgue was cold and murky with the scent of recent deaths that Bonnie shuddered so violently that she thought that she might collapse. The lights flickered on, revealing drab graying green walls, an old linoleum floor, and a hall extending for about one hundred feet to end in double doors with "Autopsy Room" above them in large blue letters. The entire length of the hallway was dotted with metal doors with similar looking labels above them. _Oh no,_ thought Bonnie as she took in the rows of doors, _this will take too long._ Damon, however, was striding confidently towards a metal door that looked no different from the all others to Bonnie. She decided it was better to follow him to the door, because she didn't want to be left alone in the middle of the strange hallway.

Damon looked at the door for a moment, as if he could see past it, and turned the handle. A small, whitened hand shot out and reached for his wrist, trying to get a grip on it. Damon, totally unfazed, grabbed the annoyance with his left hand and pulled. Bonnie gasped as she realized that this was Emily. The vampire girl stumbled into the hall, shrieking because of the sudden light in her now delicate eyes.

"Let me _go!!_" Emily cried. Damon thinly smiled at her and turned to Bonnie, a look of anger on his sculpted face. He had obviously noticed the illegal thing about the girl.

"_She's too young!" _he hissed, malice joining the anger in his dark eyes.

"Why do you think I came? To pay my condolences to her? She isn't used to this; she hadn't been _attacked_ in nearly a year! I came to give her a ring against the sun so she could have that part of her life back. Do you think I didn't know that she was too young to be legally changed? The one who did this knows exactly what the Commune will do to him. Why do you think he's not here?" She was partly angered by the fact that the normally precise Damon had not found out Emily's age, because he seemed to know most of the other details and partly that he was so upset by something that was perfectly legal for Old World vampires.

"Dr. M.?" Emily's voice had changed from fevered shriek to a timid whisper. Damon let her go, and stepped back, allowing Bonnie to see her undead patient. As Bonnie stepped closer to Emily she saw that the girl had on the clothing she had died in, though the blood had dried into the garments. Emily's face was white with need for blood, her freckles stark against the skin. Her neck hadn't quite healed from the obscene bloody mess it had been earlier that day, but it was bearable now that she knew that Emily had completed the change without forgetting who Bonnie was.

"Shush, come here Emily, I need to give you something." Bonnie knew what she was doing was dangerous, Emily had probably woken up when her body sensed Damon's presence, and that meant she hadn't fed since the EMTS had taken her body away on the stretcher, but Bonnie didn't want the ring on her right hand to be there a moment longer than it needed to be.

Damon's soft, caressing voice came from startlingly close to her ear, "Give it to me Bonnie; she'll attack you when you get within reach." She looked up at Damon and realized that he was right. She took off the ring and handed it to him. He went to Emily and dropped the ring in her palm.

"Put that on, never take it off in sunlight, or near dawn, never tell anyone what would happen if you took it off during those times unless you trust them with your life. I really mean that. If you told that to anyone you didn't completely trust, they could use it against you. When you tell others what the ring does for you, you are thrusting _your life_ into their hands, which is not a very safe proposition anyway." He said this without emotion, as if explaining a memorized lesson to a dumb student.

"Damon, she needs…" Bonnie didn't know how to put Emily's need for _human_ blood into accurate words.

"Yes, but not yours." Bonnie was startled by the sharp answer he had given her, but she recovered quickly.

_ "_Why do you care Damon?" she hissed in return.

_What can I say? I have a certain greed in some areas._ Bonnie wanted to laugh at his cool voice inside her mind, even though she knew exactly what he meant. He turned to Emily, extending his hand gingerly, as if feeding a not quite tamed animal, "Come on, first we have to find your friend. Then _he_ gets to help you, and if he doesn't, well then _I_ get to do my favorite thing in the world, besides pummeling my brother into a bloody streak on some wall." Emily, instead of following Damon, cried out and backed away from him.

"Get away from me! What do you mean? If who doesn't help me? Do you mean Joel? He promised to come and help me when I woke up. But Ms. M. said I was dying, _what's going on?!" _Her blue-gray eyes were filled with tears and all Bonnie wanted to do was to rush to Emily's side and comfort her, like she had so many times before and started forward, but Damon grabbed Bonnie's shoulders and pushed, sending her reeling backwards while he turned back to talk to Emily.

"Everything you have heard so far is true, he probably will come and help you, Bonnie is also right, and you are dead. Like Joel and I, you are a vampire, damned for eternity or until some spell happy witch finds you and sends you to a warmer environment." Damon said this with little to no enthusiasm. Bonnie, having recovered from her near fall, whirled on him.

"I can take care of this myself Damon! I am not a complete imbecile! I am probably as mentally powerful as you are, I can take care of myself also, I am not who I was years ago, whatever you may--''

"I know just what I think Bonnie, and I am correct in my thinking, that even though you could tell half the world's population to march into the sea to drown, Emily is twice as strong as you and three times as fast, even now before she has fed. Once her friend shows up, I _severely_ doubt you'll be able to fend them off." He snapped this with heated concern, as if he truly cared about what would happen to her if he left. Bonnie was stunned, she had never heard such emotion towards a human being from him before.

Of course she had heard him talk angrily to Stefan before; but not as if he cared, because he usually didn't. However the look Damon's words left in his eyes convinced Bonnie to obey his wishes of taking care of this with her. Suddenly Damon stiffened and Bonnie felt the presence of new Power.

* * *

"Emily!" All three turned towards this new voice that, as they found out, belonged to a vampire who might have been a pro-basketball player in life. This was quickly followed by a happy yell from Emily who began running to him. The tall boy seemed almost human from the nearly lacking darkness that shadowed him. 

_So different from Damon_, the thought surfaced in Bonnie's mind as she compared the two near immortals. Joel was tall, gangling, and looked to be barely over fifteen, while Damon looked more to be in his early twenties. Damon had strong features that belonged on a Roman coin, but Joel had a crooked nose that had definitely not made friends with several hard, flat objects and ears that might have caused him considerable frustration as a human.

"Joel! You came! I woke up and it was so dark, then a door opened and I—'' She was silenced by a swift kiss from Joel who then hugged her tightly to himself, repeating her name over and over. Bonnie was reminded of how Elena and Stefan acted sometimes. So lovesick over each other that it was revolting just looking at them. Bonnie caught a look from Damon that told her the same thing was running through his mind.

"So you're the genius who did this. I suppose you know how old she is?" The casual remark from Damon made the young vampire turn to stone.

"Yes, she's 15 and a half…today."

_He seems rather pleased with himself, _Bonnie thought, thinking hard on it so Damon would hear, _but she is 15 and one half years old tomorrow, not today._ Bonnie was looking right at the weak vampire who seemed to have caused so much mental anguish for Emily and her family. He blanched, as he overheard the silent remark, "Y-you mean," he paled further as he looked down on the new vampire, "oh _no_, _no, no, _s-she is of age, she has to be!" he seemed to realize what he had to do to make sure he didn't have to undergo the grotesque, ritual punishment for his crime. Staring straight at Damon, he started to babble, "I will take care of her, I'll teach her, I'll—''

"I'm not one who would take you to the American Commune, though Bonnie here surely will if you don't make good on the vows you've just made about her little pet." Damon stated with aristocratic simplicity, something he seemed to have been born with. Bonnie was filled with envy at his ability to hold others in thrall while he did the simplest of things, just to spite whoever he disliked at that particular moment.

Joel recovered after a long moment and then asked if Bonnie would like to donate her blood to help Emily fully complete her change from human to vampire, to which Damon interjected that no, Bonnie did not wish to donate anything and that if Joel wanted a hand-out he should go to the nearest blood bank. Joel stood in awe of Damon. The way he stood, the way he mumbled and the way he never met Damon's eyes, indicated what he thought of the ancient vampire.

"Then what am I supposed to do? I am too weak to pull a human out of a crowd and make them willing to give and this one---'' Joel had unwisely returned to his first topic.

"This one, however my young friend, is a psychic, and—'' Damon abruptly shut his mind away from Bonnie's, and continued mentally speaking to Joel. When he finished, Joel nodded his head, looking dazed, and he turned to Emily, swiftly guiding her outside.

Outside was a blue '57 Chevy with beautifully painted gold flames on the hood and down the sides. Emily ran her finger tips along the antique car as Joel unlocked it and got in. Emily cried out in joy as he beckoned her to get in on the passenger side as he pushed up the lock. At a run, she leapt over to the door and climbed into the old truck. With a distracted nod to Damon and Bonnie, Joel turned on the willing engine and reversed out of the parking lot. The last thing Bonnie saw of Emily was when her dark brown hair whipped around in the window to reveal her face, truly happy for the first time Bonnie had seen in a long, long time.

_Thank you Dr. McCullough!_ This was the remark that entered Bonnie's mind as she looked at the girl who was too young to be changed and thankfully was not left alone in the world.

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Sooo? Read, review if you wish.

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	3. Chapter 3

Well, this is the start of a story which I'll update every week, on sunday mornings. It has 94 pages completed on the word processor. **I don't own Bonnie or Damon, but I do love the idea that they would get together.** I'm sorry that this doesn't even begin to measure up to the longest completed D/B fic on here, Bloodlust. I have read that...and it is the best. Sticks to everything, everyone is normal, no OOC, and Damon gets the redhead. I am happy with that. 

This story is set 10 (or something) years after all that (not bloodlust) happened. I started writing it about 4 years ago...so it is...ya get it

* * *

Damon was not looking at the receding truck. He was studying Bonnie with the light from the building, and she looked to him like glass. The kind of glass that a Venetian glassblower had once shown him, clear with bright red swirls that enticed the eye and the mind_. I've got to think of something better…_

_Icy fire, that's what she looks like, with her red hair that's twisting at the ends of the strands. And her face, no freckles like the rest of her family has, but smooth as cream. _

Bonnie was nearly a head shorter than Damon, which he thought amusing, for most girls in this day were as tall as him, some even taller. The only thing that had changed in nearly ten years was that her hair had darkened from a gold tinged red to a darker, more surreal, vibrant crimson. Her face, however, was the same, like he remembered it, small features except for big, striking brown eyes that entranced him almost more than anything else about her. His gaze roved back to the twisting crimson hair falling down to the middle of her back. Without consciously realizing that he was, Damon stepped silently closer to her and wound his fingers in the soft red waves that were making him so unsettled and dazed.

* * *

Bonnie whipped around as she felt his cool presence, bringing Damon's fingertips uncomfortably close to her throat. She caught herself before she screamed, but barely, as he suddenly leaned forward and kissed her. It was so soft at first that she wanted to melt then and there, let him have whatever he wanted, but she stood rigid. Damon was ignoring this, lifting his cool lips from her warm ones for a moment, and then bringing them together again. 

She suddenly remembered that he had never truly broken her heart, like Matt had. With this thought, she didn't have reasons to resist him, and shyly returned his inexplicable warmth. He slipped his arms around her, holding her close, and tipped her head back. Damon kissed her throat twice, but he stopped suddenly, keeping her close.

"You're too tense," as if _this_ was his explanation for his last action, "you need to learn how to get over the things you can't undo, Bonnie." Then he let her go. His eyes were dazed, confused at what he had just done.

Bonnie could not voice an answer; she was too shocked at his behavior to care about Emily right now. Damon had induced a kind of trust from her, and it had been so strong that she hadn't felt fear when she saw that dark head descending to her neck. Bonnie was so shocked that she didn't even flinch when she saw his predator's smile in the darkness.

"Why are you here at all Damon? This wasn't a coincidence, so don't try to pawn it off as one." The trust was still there, but Bonnie wasn't a fool when it came to Damon.

"Why to see you Bonnie, that's why I'm here. I don't know why you would think that I would try to fool you. I've never done that to _you_, nor do I think to form a new habit for your sake." He went to his car and got in.

Bonnie got into the front passenger seat, buckling herself in, but she could feel his eyes on her. Thoughts came thick and fast, remembrances of the legends surrounding his kind, and how long a vampire as strong as Damon could go without blood of some kind.

"Damon, umm…" Bonnie trailed off.

"Yes?" He was being patient with her, but Bonnie could not begin to fathom why.

"Can I wait here, and maybe you go hunt?" There, it was said, and now she only had to await his answer.

Bonnie was starting to feel the natural instinct to run tug at her. Her brain was bent on the fact that Damon was a vampire, and she was psychic. Not just any psychic, she was of Cara's line, NaLal. NaLal, the name meant something to vampires of the old tongue, but it had lost its rough translation to those that belonged to it. It now meant only to the red haired girls that they were in danger from the day of their birth onward.

Damon was a statue of ice and onyx; the colors that he wore were not visible to Bonnie's human eyes.

"Don't _you_ want to Bonnie? Are you not the _least_ bit curious?" He had turned towards her, leaning closer, "It doesn't hurt if you're willing, trust me, and only a sharp sting to remind you of what is actually happening, and then everything fades. Don't you want to at least try it?" Damon's eyes were serious, fixed on hers, the look in them telling Bonnie that the only blood he wanted right now was hers.

Bonnie had lost her ability of speech; no vampire had ever suggested so strongly, or openly, that she share blood with them. Joel had suggested she give her internal sustenance to Emily, but that was something entirely different. What Damon was saying was barely a request; it was more of a demand.

Her grandmother's words drifted back to her, "We, being the oldest, have the most potent blood, unshed and untainted. The day it is shed to feed another being, such as a vampire, then that day will mark the end of this Earth as we know it."

"Why do you want it?" Bonnie could not shake the image of Grandmother Amy glancing at her, warning in the normally serene face, telling Bonnie that if she sought Damon she would be banished, heiress or no.

Damon's sable black eyes were still fixed on Bonnie's frightened brown ones, for which she was silently glad, because she couldn't control the flush of blood she knew was creeping up her throat. He then began to speak, slowly and deliberately.

"One that I have to live;" She felt his cool fingertips on her pulse point, gently pressing. "Two that I have kept myself from taking mortal blood with any Power at all for over a century." His eyes were closer to hers, and she felt his other hand come up to stroke her hair. "And three you have a good reason to trust that I won't dare hurt or kill you. What other reasons do you want?" Damon's voice indicated that he would have said more, to tell Bonnie something she _didn't_ know. But he did not continue. He simply held her eyes. She forced herself to recoil, though she knew that he saw right through the movement.

"Just take me home Damon, please." His eyes stayed on hers for a moment more, and then turned away as he turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred into life, and they roared out of the small, brightly lit parking lot.

* * *

Damon could understand why Bonnie didn't want to have anything to do with him, he had caused too much trouble in her life, and he had disrupted it so much in such a small space of time that she had almost every reason to hate him. What Damon did not understand was why she had agreed to come with him at all, any other human in their right mind would have said they'd walk rather than get into a car with him. _Maybe she isn't in _her_ right mind either_. Damon wished he could control these strange situations with Bonnie, but as he began speaking he kept his tone easy, not demanding or threatening. 

"Why are you being so trusting with me, Bonnie, knowing what I've done for centuries, and what I have done to people you've cared about? I understand everything else, but not this. Tell me, or I am going to go mad because I have no idea of what made you get in this car." He didn't need to glance over at Bonnie to see what the look on her face was. He could read that in the way her pulse quickened even further, the sharp little intake of air, the way her mind suddenly went on high alert. Damon had caught her off guard. He saw a darkened, alley-like street to the right, and pulled off onto it.

"Damon, I just want to go home. Please Damon, I will tell you then." Bonnie did not like being here, not when Damon's voice was so controlled, not when he needed to feed the inhuman hunger that was probably crawling through his veins. All she wanted to do was get out.

"No Bonnie. You are going to tell me now. If you have an answer as to why you got into a car with a vampire, I want to know why. Most particularly I want to know about the fact that _I_ am the vampire in question." He had turned off the engine, but he now gripped the steering wheel till his knuckles began to ache.

Bonnie had never been so frightened in her life. Not when Stefan was in a battle Klaus, not when Elena had gone missing during a snowstorm, not when she had discovered Mr. Tanner was dead, not even when they had been fighting the animals sent by Katherine. Now Damon was demanding an answer from her, and she knew he was battling his ruthless hunger, the one that was calling for blood. _My blood_, Bonnie amended, feeling a sickness that she associated with vomiting.

"I don't know…I really don't know,"_ I sound like I'm going to cry, I'm such a baby,_ "Can we leave now?" Bonnie's thoughts were running madly without her, she was afraid of how he was going to react at the pitiful answer to his razor edged question. Instead of meeting him boldly, she looked out the window, trying not to scream out in mental anguish.

"Alright Bonnie, I will wait for an answer to that. I'm sorry, I have just been…"

There were tremors running through her now, and her brain was alight with activity, so Damon slipped easily into her mind, going from thought to thought, reading them, and trying not to startle her with any sudden burst of his own reactions. One particular line of activity that he took notice of was always unfinished, even though it was the only rational thought within Bonnie's brain. _What if Monika is right? What if…._ Damon noticed that Bonnie never continued this short questioning of herself. It made him wonder about what Monika Avian had been telling Bonnie.

* * *

Bonnie had decided it was better to not react anymore, the responses she received from Damon frightened her, mainly because they were not responses she associated with his nature. As he turned onto her street on the airpark she looked at him, not a furtive glance, but turning to look at his severe profile. _He looks like a statue,_ she thought, _like the one I saw in that museum in England; his face is just too perfect_. Her eyes dropped down to his hands, which were loosely hanging onto the steering wheel, the long, elegant fingers curved downward. 

As she looked, his right hand let go of the wheel and extended over towards her with the palm up. With marked hesitation Bonnie put her left hand on it, feeling the cold silver of the ring on his middle finger, and the relative coolness of his skin. She realized he probably knew how she felt about her Power; Damon had taken human blood all his life and had had new vampiric Power awake all the time in it.

It was a long while before she realized that they had stopped, she was so lost in Damon's understanding. Bonnie's eyes hadn't left their hands since she had placed her small, pale hand on Damon's pallid, long fingered one. Now Bonnie lifted her gaze to Damon's face. The perfect face that had frightened her so many times before was close to her own; Damon's impossibly dark eyes were lit with something Bonnie wanted to call longing, but she couldn't tell because she couldn't pierce his mental shields. His other hand came up and lightly touched the wounds on her forehead. She winced a little; the metal had bruised the skin around the four punctures, but didn't jerk away from his cool fingertips.

"Why did you leave? I'm not going to ask again Damon. That night I mean, after the ghosts took Klaus away. I wanted you to stay." She had asked the same question to him in her dream, but he had not answered her then, but he might now.

"I had to." Bonnie shivered at the deadened quality Damon's voice could take on.

"No you didn't". Bonnie wanted a straight answer from him right _now_.

"Because of _Matt_, Bonnie, because of Matt and his damned ideals. Because even if you had made it clear to him how you felt about either one of us, he would have fought me. For a human, even at his physical ability, that is a fool's errand. After Vickie was killed, I heard your thought when you and the others stopped me from carrying out a centuries old vow; it was that I was going to 'swat Matt like a fly'. I would have done more than swat him Bonnie. I didn't kill him because I knew you would hate me for it, and I didn't kill my brother because both you and Elena would hate me."

Bonnie was astonished, until her mind calmly put together some errant details and arranged them into a logical order. The Damon _she _knew would have taken her blood when she had fainted. The Damon _she _knew would have let Emily take her blood whether Bonnie wanted to help the new vampire or not. The Damon _she_ knew about wouldn't have cared about who hated him. This wasn't Damon. Her mind knew this wasn't true, but the reasoning was that Bonnie needed to remain sane.

"You're not Damon." Stating her inner thoughts felt better than letting this pseudo-Damon read them like some sort of book, "You are some extremely powerful Old One, most likely Ivan Romanov, who is playing a game with me." Bonnie said this with calm reserve, as if she had known this false ending all along. She didn't move her hand away from his, even with her new conclusion.

_Oh really? How did you come to this end result?_ His voice seemed genuinely curious, so she answered it, "Because…" Her reasons all crumbled with the beginning of the answer. Bonnie's mind had arranged, in neat rows, all of the little facts and details only moments ago.

"Because…" She tried to start again, but failed as she remembered the elegant grace of how he walked, the way he knew what she had thought about him, he knew things _only_ Damon would know. This was Damon, but…Bonnie's mind searched for something to connect the unfinished thought with, but found none. Anger soon replaced confusion in Bonnie's shell shocked mind.

"I am going to go home now Damon, this is too confusing, I've reacted to too much today, Emily dead, you here, Emily a willing vampire, you again, how you've changed, and everything else that is bothering me these days. I can't _deal_ with this anymore." Bonnie took her hand from his and unfastened the seatbelt. She could feel his eyes on her as she worked to find the lock on the strange door in the dark. She heard two muted clicks, then Damon's frozen voice, "The lock isn't on the passenger door. Perhaps I will drop by sometime, tomorrow maybe, or maybe the night after that." He seemed to have trouble getting the words out, as if they hurt him.

Bonnie opened the door and realized that it was extremely cold outside. "_This isn't funny Damon,_"the heated thought burst out of Bonnie's lips and mind simultaneously Bonnie hated being in the cold, it was how the air became when new Powers awoke inside her. _Stay Bonnie, I'm not making the air cold._ His voice in her mind was urgent, and Bonnie was surprised when he didn't at least _try_ to make her stay. Bonnie shut the door, deciding that to be in a car with a hungry vampire was better than facing her absolute fear of cold. Leaning back into the seat, Bonnie closed her eyes, thinking to herself that dying in a warm car wasn't as bad as being outside in the terrible cold.

A bitter laugh that Bonnie thought for a moment was Stefan's came from off to her left interrupted her silent musings.

"You really think I am going to kill you? You think that I am blood crazed enough to do_ that?_" _Yes_. Bonnie was too dully frightened to speak, and using her mind was easier than forcing her throat to move.

_And why would I do that? You are…_ the soft voice stopped abruptly, as if Damon had almost let something slip out to Bonnie that he didn't want her to know. _He seems to want to talk a whole lot more than he does_, she thought, as the questions welled up inside her.

She lifted her head against her own will and faced him, "I'm what?" His eyes were having trouble leaving her throat, so she forced his head up, gripping his chin with her hand. She repeated her question, as if he hadn't heard her the first time, "I am what? Damon, what am I to you? _I_ will tell you what I am if _you_ haven't noticed. I am a weak human who can't even control my Power sometimes. I let one of my patients be killed this morning, now she is tied to a vampire who can't even bring a human being under his mental command." Looking into his eyes now was unnerving; they were flickering with the hunger he was probably fighting with his own soul. She also noticed that the skin beneath her fingers seemed to be warm, and was becoming warmer by the second.

Bonnie didn't want to give any vampire her blood, and in fact had been taught not to, but the way he had pushed her away earlier that evening, how he had thrown two perfect chances to feed off of her to the wind, he had changed so radically that Bonnie felt for the first time a complete willingness to give something to a vampire. _Matt was different, Matt wanted it…But Damon, he's different._

"No, I don't want that from you Bonnie." Damon looked like he was feeling guilty at his words and added, "At least not tonight."

His words did not deter her thoughts and she asked him, "Why?" He was silent, inhumanly still, and oddly human in his facial expression. She waited, and thought more on what each of them had said and thought.

"Answer me Damon!" But first she wanted a good reason to give him such a powerful gift.

He simply seized her wrist and dislodged it from the position on his face. _No Bonnie, you'll merely push me away from you in the end._

"You are impossible you know that?! I am going to get out of the car now, you may stop me if you want, but I am going."

Bonnie jerked her wrist from his grip and got out of the car. Breathing heavily, she went towards the sidewalk, trying to walk in a straight line. Cold air rushed into her lungs, making Bonnie's heart quadruple its rate. She suddenly realized that today really was the 8th and all of the repressed fear exploded into her consciousness at the truth.

"Oh God no," was all she could whisper as her knees buckled and she saw the sidewalk rushing towards her.

* * *

_The sidewalk shouldn't be allowed to do that to people_, Bonnie thought dismally as she lay on the ground, the chills racking through her entire body. Dimly she heard a door slam, and someone call her name. _Is that Damon? I wonder why he is here;_ Bonnie's clouded mind had forgotten that he hadn't driven away when she had gotten out of his car. She had, in fact, forgotten that she had seen him at all, that she had spoken with him, had yelled at him and been afraid of him. 

Bonnie felt like she was wrapped in a very thin blanket, nothing felt quite clear as she suddenly sensed Damon's grip on her shoulders. He was kneeling on the ground, from what she could see, and Bonnie could not quite understand what he was saying. _So this is what Waters meant by 'Comfortably Numb'. I can see Damon's lips moving but I can't hear what he's saying. _

* * *

Damon had watched her walking quickly away from him, wanting to follow her, but fiercely reminding himself that Bonnie had broken the heart of every man she had ever known. Bonnie would only break his. Besides, he needed to indulge the ancient hunger that was overtaking him, and Bonnie wouldn't give her blood to _him_, so why follow her? Then his hunter's eyes, keyed up after not feeding for so long, had picked up the slight falter in her step. Damon's mind assumed instantly that she was undecided in abandoning him, but the killer inside his almost dry veins told him that this was an involuntary action, the small failing that could be used against prey. 

Under the weak light from the moon, as if in slow motion, Damon had watched her fall. He had been unbuckling the seatbelt as he'd seen the faltering steps, so he had nearly fallen to the ground as he rocketed out of the driver's seat. Recovering his balance with inhuman agility, Damon sprinted over to Bonnie's small form on the ground, yelling her name, not caring who heard him.

Damon grabbed the quaking shoulders and pulled Bonnie up to sudden Power-laden warmth. _"Damon?"_ The little voice was accompanied by a slight movement of her lips and the fact that her eyes became visible between thick reddish lashes. The shivering increased, but Bonnie's chocolate colored eyes stayed open.

_This is vampire magic,_ a small detached part of Damon was saying to no one in particular, _it is…good _God! Damon realized the penalty the darkness had given Bonnie for calling on Elena while Klaus had threatened, quite calmly, to kill Bonnie because she did not move from a then dying Stefan. The shadows now attacked her with this terrible cold. Damon unleashed another blast of Power that heated everything around him, his clothing, his skin, the pavement, and everything else besides Bonnie's ice-like skin.

"What's wrong Bonnie? Can you hear me, if you can, tell me…"

"Cold." The dry croak that emerged from the violently shivering Bonnie convinced Damon of the heinous act the Old Ones were inflicting on her. Without another word, he picked her up, and at the same time realized he should feed on at least something, _anything_ his aching mind told him, before he helped her. With this thought, his eyeteeth began their supernatural growth, which Damon fought; knowing Bonnie wouldn't be willing and he could kill her if she resisted him.

"Bonnie," Damon had trouble grating the words out while fighting himself, "You try to get inside when we get to your house. I _have_ to feed _now_" Damon quickened his pace, knowing that this was the first time he had _ever_ fought against the nature of his immortal life. His conditioned body could go for more than fifteen hours without fresh blood, but it had been nearly seventeen since he had fed on the homeless man near the highway.

"Don't leave me!" Bonnie's frightened whisper cut through his thoughts, painfully reminding Damon of the little vessel of Life that was shivering in his arms. Damon looked down at her, opening his mouth to speak, but she continued, "Take mine! Just _don't_ leave me. _Please_." Bonnie's beautiful brown eyes were burning feverishly but her normally warm skin was freezing where it touched his.

Damon didn't argue, he needed to feed and Bonnie was freely offering her blood to him, so he accepted this logical solution. He set Bonnie down on her feet again; looping one arm around her waist to keep her upright, while using his other hand to cup the back of her neck. Damon gently tilted Bonnie's head back to reveal her snow white throat which was pounding wildly with the one thing that his body had needed to survive over the centuries.

* * *

"Be sure that this is what you want Bonnie. I am too starved to stop if you change your mind." Bonnie noted in her haze how Damon was not looking at her face; his eyes were anchored on the veins in her neck. Fear shouldered through her other torment for a moment as Damon lowered his lips to her throat, and then the instinctive fear was replaced by strange emotions of love and giving. 

Damon's lips felt searing against her cold skin, making Bonnie cling to him just for the intense heat. But even she jumped and tried to fight as his teeth pierced the thin layer of skin that was the only barrier between him and her blood. She stopped herself as Damon stroked her hair, holding her up on her feet.

She was surprised when the shivering that raced through her body diminished, leaving her still frozen, but able to feel Damon's touch on her skin, and the heady feeling of having her blood extracted gently from her veins for the first time. The sensation spread through her, loosening tightened muscles, whispering comfort to Bonnie as she lost all feeling besides that of Damon.

* * *

Damon was shocked at how rich Bonnie's blood was. Nearly gagging, he instantly decided it was like drinking pure cream. Her blood also tasted like sugar, even though it was tainted with the harsh metallic quality that came with Bonnie's association with so much vampiric Power. 

"So how do I…taste?" The question had a wry tone, as if Bonnie now regretted her decision to let him have the first sip of her blood, of NaLal's blood. The movements of muscle in her neck made his lips tingle. _Like dark chocolate. I've had enough._ With that thought Damon forced his fangs to retreat back to their normally innocent length. He had only minor difficulty getting them to obey.

"I thought you would need more, considering you hadn't fed for so long." Bonnie's voice was soft, the weakness that her fall had caused showing through it as Damon kissed her throat to clean the drops of blood that had accidentally spilled from the newly opened vein. He was puzzled by the fact that she knew how long it had been since he had last fed. He decided that it was because of her psychic Power and the fact that his teeth had been in her throat.

"With your amount of Power, Bonnie, I don't need to take nearly as much blood as I would even if I was on my regular feeding pattern." He felt how Bonnie let her weight lie on his supporting arm, and lifted her up so she wouldn't have to walk while she was so fragile.

"Thank you for saving me." _No problem_. Bonnie laughed that Damon used his mind to talk to her instead of speaking verbally.

Bonnie forced herself to look directly at his face. She was surprised that she could see the rainbow colors in his hair, but her eyes were attracted to the splash of color on his mouth. There was a smeared drop of bright red blood on his lower lip.

"Is that…mine?" This was all Bonnie could whisper before her body, which had been protesting the whole time, finally gave out on her.

Damon looked at Bonnie's face as she lost expression in unconsciousness, thinking to himself that Bonnie wouldn't have been able to see that faint trace of blood unless she was a vampire. Shaking his head, Damon turned and started walking up Bonnie's steep driveway. Noticing a bench on the covered porch Damon sat down, bringing Bonnie into a sitting position on his lap.

"Wake up Bonnie." Damon kissed her, and then repeated his demand in a singsong voice. Damon noted that the wrenching tremors in Bonnie's body had stopped, as if this is what the Old One had planned, forcing a decision from him. He thought back to when he was in the university in Florence, his instructors had done things like this, forcing the students to choose between two evils. His professor in mathematics loved it, letting students get themselves into trouble and giving them the options to get out of the frying pan.

That was one of the reasons Damon had decided to quit. He had realized, quite irrationally, that evil crept into everything good did. The good was that the teacher was well versed in advanced mathematics, but the evil was that the same teacher was allowed to practically torture his pupils. Damon had intentionally failed the class, just to lay the blame on his university's feet that Professor Vincelli had failed to break him, like Damon had made all the other respected men fall short of Giuseppe Salvatore's expectations for his rebellious son.

Damon had known his father's position in the world at that point in time, that the people Damon had grown up mistrusting were merely fair-weather friends who would drop Giuseppe the moment they got wind of his elder son quitting his schooling.

Even then he knew that his father didn't deserve the cruel wake-up plan, the man had tried to raise his sons to his dead wife's probable expectations, but Giuseppe had failed in the fact that Damon had grown to be just like him. Damon shuddered, as violently as Bonnie had with cold Power, at the thought that he would have aged to be similar to his father.

When Damon had been young he had lived to please his mother, Maria, and had wondered often in his life why he had decided to anger his father who had also loved her so much. Damon had done everything he could to make his mother live happily, even though she was obviously dying. He had walked with her to church, scorned the knee cushion that his father used, prayed for hours until he thought that God would know that to let Maria die would result in disaster.

_And then there was Katherine_; Damon thought, returning to the present, _her beauty something that almost eclipsed Mother's_. Stefan had thought her the most beautiful thing in the world, but Damon did not, nothing could be more beautiful than Maria in his mind, _nothing_. But he had cared for her nonetheless, hating the moments when she talked of Stefan, adoring the ones she devoted to him.

_No,_ he forced the thoughts of his past away; they were too painful to go over, for they were far more painful than Stefan's memories. _Stefan and I fought over Katherine, so what? We fought again over Elena, once more, what does it matter? _

In the crypt, when Elena had chosen to merely understand him, Damon had thought that God just had it out for him, making his life a living hell. By then Damon had lost all three women he had ever thought to love, first his mother, then Katherine, and finally Elena.

Then an unknowing, chaste, laughing Bonnie had captured his still hurting heart. Bonnie was ever hopeful, and she hardly ever doubted in the supernatural. She accepted the fact that other people didn't believe in magic, or vampires, or anything at all. When he had shown up in Fell's Church with Stefan, she hadn't accepted her friends' explanation that Stefan had brought his older brother with him.

As Damon waited for his little Bonnie to regain consciousness, he ran over the thoughts of what had happened to the girl who had destroyed Yanni. Minea had been punished for her actions by being slowly given the Power of the Old One. There were rumors all over Europe that it had been a cruel mind to have done such a thing. The witch had lived for years, having sudden attacks as the Power over took her. Since Yanni had been the consort of the first of the vampires, Elias, Minea had had to take her place. Bonnie was being forced to take on Klaus's Power, slowly changing into a vampire herself.

_Lucky Klaus didn't have any particular friends in the vampire world_, Damon thought to himself, looking at the home across the street, as he inattentively caressed the soft red hair that spread out over his arm, so long it was almost touching the cement of the porch. The head that the hair belonged to moved slightly, turning to him as if seeking comfort that it did not already have. Damon looked down, and saw that Bonnie's eyes were open, studying him in the light. Turning up the side of his mouth at the look on her heart-like face, he kissed her forehead.

"So what's happening to me, Damon? Am I just going through a slow mental breakdown, or am I enjoying the repercussions of a panic stricken moment twelve years ago?" Bonnie's voice had regained its steadiness, and her tone was almost joking.

"Well, can you see any colors that you normally wouldn't? If you do, you are going through the latter, because improved vision is _not_ something that comes with madness." Damon could barely keep his face straight as he said this, for he could sense no madness from Bonnie's quick mind.

"Well, I _do_ see colors, but is it the lesser of the evils? What I mean is would it be better to be mad, or to be slowly changed into something…else?" She narrowed her eyes as she stood up, moving away from him, to look at the garden she and Caroline had planted when she had moved into this house four years ago. The saffron of the dying chrysanthemum, the bright red of the strawberry leaves, everything was beautiful, as was everything that Caroline touched. _But it also withers, when her radiance leaves it, is it not so for everything else?_

"Please Damon, don't attack Caroline. She is, and always has been, that glittering person who isn't quite real." Bonnie could only whisper as she looked out on this niche of life she had carved for herself. _What I must look to him_, she mused, _A deranged psychic that talks to the ghost in her attic._

Stepping further away from him made her sense of security fade, but there had been so many times when she had needed that security. But he was here now, and that should have been all that mattered, right? Bonnie's mind would have none of this, it was determined to ponder all the times she could have sought his comforts, his understanding.

Bonnie stood very still, wondering what he thought of Bonnie the Baby, especially the Bonnie who had been thought to be the complete imbecile, and sometimes was. Bonnie who could make traffic stop in these almost-black-but-not-quite jeans and this baggy T-shirt that sported Stewie from _Family Man_ pointing at no one right now and saying "Damn you all."

She tried not to think about Damon seeing the jeans that hugged her thighs and hips, and the painfully loose shirt that she had on. _I don't look like Bonnie the Baby to him; I look like his punk counterpart with candy apple red hair._ Only faintly did she hear Damon get up, to stand behind her.

Bonnie turned, not caring about the alarms that went off inside of her head. _Vampire! Blood-drinker! Damned, damned to hell and beyond_. This was what the warnings said to her, all put there by her grandmother, Amy, when Bonnie's hair had turned the unnatural red that it was now. Damon smoothed her hair so that it rested behind her ear. Bonnie's lungs continued to function but Damon, it seemed, couldn't breathe in this silence that stretched between them.

_Why is he here? I need to ask him before he catches me in this spell again, but maybe…Maybe I can ask him later, I don't think I'm going to escape again like last time. What was last time?? _

Kissing Damon, something Bonnie would have never been able to describe to another soul, was what most of her dreams were that were not of the clearing. Not the timid kisses after Emily had gone; this was the passion of years, of twelve years of pain and loneliness that surged between them. It was something that had been kept apart for far too long.

"May I come in?" Damon had lifted his mouth from Bonnie's just enough to whisper against her lips. _Ever the polite aristocrat with me_, she thought as her brain sparked against what was drilled into her very subconscious mind by a decade of Amy Crommin's discipline. She broke the laws of her own family as she answered.

"Yes you may Damon," Bonnie didn't move her lips away from his, nor did she kiss him again. There was no need to; Damon didn't seem to want to move. They just stood there, clinging to each other in a world that no longer accepted them for what they truly were.

They only parted because Damon noticed that Bonnie was still icy from her dousing in Power. Once inside, she led Damon to the little used room that had been for Stefan and Elena, where he immediately went to the immense bookshelves.

Laughing she went out to get her bicycle. She wondered why she had never gotten it earlier, and then remembered that she had followed Damon after he had trapped her in the lamplight. _I'm such a trustful idiot._ She picked up the bike and saw with her improved vision a note flutter to the ground.

She read the message and pocketed the paper with suspicion, feeling the ancient Power that laced it, which Bonnie thought was not good, but she was also angered by the writing inside. After putting her bike away, she stalked through her hangar with security because she could now see where she was going in the dark. Bonnie opened the door that led to the extra bedroom from the hangar; the room that connected the rest of the house to the large hangar.

* * *

Review?

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	4. Chapter 4

Well, this is the start of a story which I'll update every week, on sunday mornings. It has 94 pages completed on the word processor. **I don't own Bonnie or Damon, but I do love the idea that they would get together.** I'm sorry that this doesn't even begin to measure up to the longest completed D/B fic on here, Bloodlust. I have read that...and it is the best. Sticks to everything, everyone is normal, no OOC, and Damon gets the redhead. I am happy with that.

This story is set 10 (or something) years after all that (in the books) happened. I started writing it about 4 years ago...so it is...ya get it.

* * *

Damon was lying haphazardly on the queen size bed, murmuring Shakespeare to no one in particular. His eyes were closed, but not closed in sleep. He had felt her disquiet from the note she had found on the bicycle; of course he wanted to know what it said, but the letter would be here tomorrow, the sound of Bonnie's blood whispering though his body would not. He was not lying here for rest, he was here so that he did not have to use that small amount of blood for inane tasks, because now he could savor a feeling he had intentionally kept himself from for years. He hadn't imagined how strong she had become in his absence.

"Damon, wake up," Bonnie's voice was quiet; she didn't actually _want_ to wake him. He sat up and smiled a little, _She thinks I'm mad, mumbling four hundred year old poetry to myself_. The look on Bonnie's face was only slightly distraught, as if she was trying to hold her emotions away from him.

"I never went to sleep. What is it Bonnie?" Damon blanked his own vision, and concentrated on making a mental image of the room just from how the waves of warmth coming from Bonnie hit the walls and furniture.

"Do you care about me, or are you just here because you are bored with terrorizing the people of Italy?" The question stung him on a deeper level; how could she think this way after what he had done for her, needing no price—no anything---for the favors he had done for her, rescuing her from the cold attack of Power, after helping her with the underage girl?

"Where did you get the idea that I don't?" It took considerable effort to keep the pain out of his voice, to keep it outwardly cool. But it came out how he wanted it to, smoothly, showing none of his inner pain.

"This letter I found outside. Do you want to see it?"

He nodded, extending his hand Bonnie gave the simple note over to him. The wording was brief, but it cut Damon to the heart, much more than most things would have.

Dearest Bonnie,

Drop Salvatore while you are still human, I do not believe that he wishes to love you, but merely to amuse himself. Many vampires do this little one, so get over it. And besides, what should NaLal be doing so close to a vampire of his repute?

Regards,

Elias Silver

Damon went against his emotional reaction and did not crumple the note, nor did he set fire to it. He instead looked up at Bonnie, "Do you know who Elias Silver is?" She shook her crimson head, so he continued.

"Elias Silver is the so called King of the Vampires. He is the root of us all. He is the blood brother of every vampire that has ever walked this earth. The hero of the witches, Minea, is his queen, or what ever you want to call her. She went through the same thing as you are now, though for nearly two centuries." Damon paused for effect, "Yanni was ten times as powerful as Klaus. It was alleged in Europe that Minea begged for her death before Elias eventually, tired of his game, finished her change himself." Damon had hoped that the Old One who was torturing Bonnie wasn't Elias, but he had known for centuries the reason why other vampires flocked to his leadership, it was because his mind worked like the King's own; and this sounded to Damon like something he himself would do.

Looking at Bonnie's face right then took his discontent and melted it into sadness and empathy; she looked scared, as if she had read his thoughts, though strangely relieved. _Beauty, she can make fear and suffering into beauty_. Damon took her hands, pulling her down to sit beside him on the bed, murmuring comforts in Italian, not realizing he had reverted to his native language.

"What do you mean that your mind works the same as the King's?" she asked, interrupting him, "What is a blood brother?" Her voice was shaking, as if she didn't want to speak but was compelled to. Damon looked into her brown eyes which had picked up a little of the ruby colored comforter in their depths.

"By that I mean Elias's mind keeps all the problems ordered, planning constantly around new obstacles, and taking mistakes and problems in cold grace. Now who does that sound like to you? Some weak vampires still believe that the Salvatore brothers are descendants of the King directly. But to my knowledge, we are not." Damon glanced at his hands as they absently entwined with hers. "A blood brother, or sister, is the one who began the line, or the one that changed another. Katherine was my blood sister; she was also my brother's blood sister. My brother and I are not, however, blood brothers because we did not change each other. Klaus was also our blood brother, though not as directly as Katherine. My brother and I can trace our very short blood line back to Elias almost immediately. Just count, Bonnie, my line goes Katherine, Klaus, and then the King. It goes no farther." After he finished, silence descended on the room.

"Damon, I read your thoughts earlier; I didn't mean to, it just happened, and I _don't_ know how it happened. So I asked about what I had read, I'm sorry if you didn't want to answer those questions, or if you thought they were rude." Bonnie was hanging her head, as if in shame. Damon very gently took her chin and turned her to face him. He leaned forward to kiss Bonnie lightly. She, in turn, slid closer to him, snaking her arms up and around Damon's neck and leaning into him. He kissed her again and again, each time filled with more passion, but still delicately, as if she would suddenly run from him.

Bonnie felt his hand on her side, just under her shirt. Surprised, she leaned away from him. She could be banished or killed for even this much of an indiscretion, but she thought of the gift that she had meant to give him but had not had the reason for it and moved her hand to cover his. When he realized that she did not mean to push him away he tried to back off with what she would have called fear on his face. His mind was open, Bonnie almost wondered if he could even close it from her.

"Damon, stay with me." He was still trying to get away from her even though she could feel the pain it caused him to do it. She grabbed his hands and held on to them. If he was to use his strength to pull away, he could hurt her with the way that she had him now.

"Here? Right now? No, Bonnie, it may kill both of us." She had never heard his voice so tense and controlled. The control she heard was like Stefan's, not like the control that she knew Damon could muster. When Damon's mind was made up, it was made up. Stefan, however...Stefan's control could weaken and break if someone played on it right, so if Damon had been reduced to it…

Reaching up to his face she smoothed his hair out of his eyes. His hair was fine and soft, liquid in the way it responded to her fingers. She suddenly wondered if it was the length that it had been in his life. He turned his face away from hers a fraction, and said almost inaudibly, "No Bonnie. If I don't kill you, they will."

"You aren't allowed to take someone this far and leave her stranded," another caress of his face, "and it isn't particularly your style of doing things anyway." Damon was quick when he turned to face her and quicker as he leaned her back.

Staring down into her face, Damon said whimsically, "Your funeral. Don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

Damon awoke to the bitter-sweet smell of Power. Shaking his head to clear it of sleep, he glared at the shimmer that stood at the foot of the bed. He drew in a sharp breath at what he saw, not daring to believe the sight. Elias Silver was projecting his spirit into the room, since he could not come into it with his body.

"Dear blood brother, and grandson, how would your beloved mother react?" Making a _tsk_ing sound in a smooth, reproachful voice, the beautiful vampire looked anything but his title as the Oldest of the Old. Clad in fading, loose, blue jeans and a gray hooded sweater, Elias looked more like a college jock. But everything, including his strange silver eyes and striking hair, tried to indicate that he was also some sort of sun-hating computer hacker; Damon looked like a suntanned human compared to Elias's odd coloration which was paper white, making everything else about him seem unnatural in this darkened room just before dawn.

"How dare you bring my mother into this!" Damon could deal with the fact that Elias probably wanted Bonnie to become his trophy, to show off at banquets and parties, Damon had good intuition in these things, but to bring up Bonnie and his _mother_ in the same sentence was agony. The ancient vampire's spirit form merely smiled, "I can bring her into this Damon, after all she _is_ my daughter. And why didn't you ask about the word 'grandson' in my comment?…I think that the nearness of the little witch is causing you to lose your normally stern focus." Damon thought about Bonnie, her soft breathing filled with the peace of slumber. He risked a glance over to her beautiful face, which was undisturbed by the Power Elias was using to take his present form.

"No, you are mistaken, she is not making me lose focus, she puts things in perspective, as to your claim that Maria Salvatore is _your_ daughter, I do not believe it, I _refuse_ to believe it…Oh, and Elias, Bonnie is not a witch, and she would need my blood for that. Which she doesn't have at the moment."

"So what you mean is that she is not a witch _yet_, and since you have both claims on her, I respect your right to the third." The shimmering being sighed, "I guess Minea won our bet, she said that Bonnie would offer her blood to you and you would take it. It seems like something I would do."

The strange man suddenly reached around to his back pocket and took out what looked like a letter. He breathed Power on it, sending it lazily flying over to Damon, lying on the bed. The movement he made to catch the heavy paper woke Bonnie, who cringed at the sight of Elias.

_Had to edit it for a little change made during the night,_ the thought, though not malevolent, sent a shockwave through both of their minds.

_Who is he? What is he doing here?_ These questions exploded in his head from Bonnie. Damon, looking at Elias, said, "Bonnie this is Elias Silver. I think he needs to feed or something; he thinks he's my grandfather." Damon then turned to Bonnie, showing her the letter.

To: Bonnie McCullough, ondunar, Damon Salvatore,

You are invited to the 700th wedding anniversary ball of Elias and Minea Silver

Location: Starfront Park, beneath the gazebo, Salem, Oregon

Time: Midnight

Date: December 25th

Dress Code: From the late fifteenth century to early sixteenth century, in honor of Maria (Silver) Salvatore.

Bonnie's eyes widened at the name on the last line of the invitation, but she decided to ask Damon about it later.

"Well are you coming? Your mother thinks that you and little Stefan are long dead, and this is the surprise I have planned for her! Oh yes, she heard that you killed each other, but I kept the information that you were vampires away from her ears. You do not know _how_ _hard_ that was with you, Damon. What do you think? Shall I risk having her kill me?" The silvery man standing before them at the foot of the bed smiled broadly as he reached the end of his speech, revealing teeth that were too perfect, in a face that, now that Bonnie was looking, looked remarkably like Damon's. Except for his eyes, and his silver hair, he looked almost exactly like Damon. Bonnie decided she definitely did _not_ like the way those unnatural eyes scanned the portion of her body that was not covered by the bright comforter. Pulling it up farther, she made a quick request to get the eyes off her skin and up to her face.

"We'll go, as long as you invite Stefan and Elena." Damon turned to Bonnie, surprise carved on his face. The Old One simply laughed, "The letter is on the way, I am having Minea deliver it now. I suppose I will be seeing you, little psychic, and Salvatore, if you don't show, things may go badly for your precious Bonnie." With this last statement, the vampire's image faded into nothingness.

"Damon, what does _ondunar_ mean? I think I have heard it before, but I don't know what it translates into." _The 'little psychic' girl, who shouldn't have had to bear all this_, Damon thought vaguely to himself, _wants to know what an old vampiric word means. _

"It literally means 'who belongs to (and)', hardly anyone uses the 'and' part anymore, except in phrases like this. So once you translate it from the language of the vampire, our little invitation reads 'To: Bonnie McCullough who belongs to (and) Damon Salvatore.' Not a particularly nice message if you translate it. But it really means that I have at least two of the claims on you, body and first blood." Damon spat out the last sentence as if he found it distasteful. _The way it sounds, _Bonnie thought, _it _is_ distasteful_.

She and Damon stayed in bed till nearly eight. Not really doing anything, just enjoying the other's presence. The only reason Bonnie finally got up was that she became suddenly starved after remembering that she hadn't eaten dinner the previous night. Damon got up and dressed, then went out to his car to, presumably, get his bag.

"What were you going to do if I hadn't let you in?" Bonnie didn't look up at him as he came back from the guest room in clean, black, clothes.

"I'd have gotten myself a nice room in a hotel in Salem. What do _you_ think I would have done?" _He's joking with me_, Bonnie thought. But then she somehow knew that he wouldn't have been able to leave her street if she hadn't invited him inside. He would have sat bolt upright in his car all night fighting the hunger that crept through him. Then, when she had come out to get the newspaper he wouldn't have been able to hold himself away from her any longer. The blast of mental Power that would have come from Damon would have stunned Bonnie, rendering her helpless to fight him as he fed from her.

Bonnie ignored the fear at this revelation, she instead concentrated on the food she had made for herself, forcing it down. To her surprise, Damon soon sat down at the table with toast and coffee. Bonnie was amazed at the way in which he had mixed himself so easily into her life. Again she repeated her thoughts that he was the polite aristocrat, even in these modern clothes that concealed his grace.

"Damon, why did you come here at all? I mean, I know you came to see me, but for what purpose?"

He smiled the smile of old, the one that told her that they shared a secret. But what secret is it was what she wanted to ask him. She was soon answered.

"Because I love you."

She didn't know what possessed her, but Bonnie was almost afraid to be in the same room as him after the soft remark. To any calm bit of her there still was at this point, this calm bit was mocking because after what had gone on in the guest bedroom, such a simple phrase was after the fact. She quickly thought of an excuse, to get away, and this excuse was that she needed to shower. But just as quickly Bonnie regretted her action, and quickly toweled off to run back to Damon and his love.

Damon watched her come back into the room; her skin was still steaming from the recent dousing in hot water. Her eyes were bright, like she wanted to cry. Damon went over to her, "What's wrong Bonnie?" Bonnie looked up at him, tears spilling from her eyes, then she smiled.

"Nothing, nothing at all Damon, nothing can be wrong anymore. Oh I love you!" With this Bonnie pressed her face to his shirt, hugging him tightly. Damon stroked the wet red hair, thinking that, yes, he had love to give back to Bonnie, and he had five hundred years of memories to share with her.

* * *

"What's this for?" Stefan was bewildered. So was Elena, but she was also suspicious of this woman in dark clothing with the looks of someone who was mixed Greek and Asian; Elena didn't like the way the stranger had stumbled over her name, Mindy, the beginning came out fine, but not the second syllable. Something was definitely up.

Without looking at "Mindy," Elena grabbed the hand that offered a letter of some sort. The hand would not come through the open air of the doorway. Elena glanced up at Stefan, who looked even more bewildered. But "Mindy" recovered, faster than Elena had ever seen a human recover from such erratic behavior.

"Alright, my name is Minea; this is an invitation from my husband to you for our wedding anniversary. Please let me in, my magic can't hold up too much longer in this sun."

Elena looked up and nodded to the vampire. Gratefully Minea stepped inside, looking at Elena strangely. Elena did not like it when vampires looked at her, unless it was Stefan; nothing was wrong with Stefan looking at her.

"How did you know I was a…?"

"I live with one; I should at least be able to notice certain things, like you squinting with the sun at your back into a darkened house, and the fact that you are wearing a sweater, sunglasses, and gloves when it is nearly eighty degrees out in this heat wave. Who are you? I mean you gave us the wrong name in the first place."

"Read this first please, that might clarify things a little." Minea proffered the invitation to them again. Stefan took it from her, tearing it open as Elena stepped nearer to him so she could read over his elbow. Both of them looked shocked as they read the last lines. Looking up, Stefan said, "What kind of joke is this? Why would Elias Silver be inviting me and Elena to a ball in Oregon? Not to mention under a cemetery, and under the pretense that my mother is somehow related to him? I hope you didn't find my brother, he adored her and I know _he_ won't find this at all funny." Elena knew that Damon disliked Stefan, and that didn't mean Stefan disliked Damon, but it wouldn't keep Stefan from stating the truth. She also knew that what Stefan just said would infuriate Damon.

_She probably hasn't delivered the letter for Damon to him yet, that's why she is still alive_. Elena knew that Damon could regulate his emotions when he was being insulted, even tortured, but there were certain topics that he turned away smoothly from in conversation. She also wondered who Elias Silver was, but Stefan's pale face had drained of color when he had read that line at the top of the page. _He must be really bad_, Elena thought to herself. Her attention turned to the brown haired woman with smoky gray eyes, who, taking some cue from Stefan's uneven breathing continued in a well practiced speech.

"Call him then, he should have his invitation by now, here is the number, I have to go now, Elias will become suspicious of you if I don't return." There was a nervous giggle, "Goodbye, I hope to see you in two months." Minea then turned and with a sucking of air and Power she became an eagle that launched into the air with powerful green and gray tinged wings.

Elena looked at the phone number Minea had pressed into Stefan's limp hand, but Stefan had to catch Elena as her knees decided they were on strike. Her mind found a solution instantly, Minea had a bunch of numbers and she had given Stefan the wrong one, which was a good enough answer for Elena's senses, who then returned.

"What is it Elena? Let me see that paper, I am going to call the number on it, just to see what unfortunate vampire is dead…Elena?" He had seen the look in Elena's eyes and he stopped speaking.

"It's Bonnie's number, but that lady must have gotten the wrong paper out, he can't be there, he went to Italy after I came back, he doesn't even know where she lives…" Elena trailed off, Stefan was shaking his head, "Elena, anyone can get on the internet, type in Google, and then search for anything. That works for weak vampires, but Damon is powerful, he could just tap into the psyche of some witch, and bang, he knows where every human with Power on earth is. No one can hide from vampires in this age. He is probably there whether we like it or not, so how about you call and I go get the plane tickets?" Elena nodded, she had to save Bonnie; Bonnie had called for her spirit, then her spirit had come and given Stefan the strength to call for Elena himself, for this she was eternally in debt to Bonnie.

With this strange righteousness stealing over her, Elena walked over to the cordless phone, picked it up, and began dialing the number she knew by heart. The ATT computerized voice cut into her ear, "It is 10:54 AM in the area that you are calling. It is 1:54 in the area you are calling from…" _Blah blah blah_ Elena mouthed this to Stefan as she looked over his shoulder at the online travel website. He smiled, and then turned back to the screen.

Elena always liked it when Stefan used computers; he used his mind to operate them. He only had to see the screen to mess with the electronics. Elena learned that she loved this power even more when they had visited Bonnie three summers ago. They had visited several computer friendly coffee shops in Portland; one memory shone itself to Elena of when she and Bonnie had been doubled over in silent laughter as the man sitting at a nearby table began getting advertisements for anything and everything, mostly ones that made noise.

The phone started ringing, which brought Elena back to what she had to do right now, save Bonnie so she could have more of the sunny memories that she had been savoring.

* * *

Bonnie skittered across the room, her white skirt flying. Damon looked at her, and realized why she was hurrying as the phone rang. He used the energy spent in lifting his eyelids by looking at what Bonnie had changed into, a long white skirt that flared at her hips, and a blue tank top. _Not just any tank top_, he remarked to himself, allowing his eyes to follow her movements, this one had a lacing front, with a tight silk back; the result was that every inch of her upper body was profiled in tie dyed blues.

Damon's mind supplied him with the data of who was calling, just as if he had read the caller ID: Salvatore, Stefan and Elena; Richmond Virginia USA. Damon wondered which one was calling, Stefan or Elena, and whether they wanted to visit.

"Hi Elena…No I'm fine…Yes, he's here, do you want to--…I don't see why you have to come, we are perfectly OK…If you insist, Bye Elena…" Bonnie sighed and clicked the phone off. Her slumped shoulders showed that the news wasn't good.

"Can I fill in the blanks; make the bad news a sort of game?" Bonnie nodded; she obviously didn't want to tell him this. Damon continued, in almost perfect voices, "Hi Elena, _Hi Bonnie are you hurt at all?_ No I'm fine. _Is Damon there?_ Yes, he's here, do you want to-- _NO! Stefan and I are going to fly over tomorrow._ I don't see why you have to come, we are perfectly OK. _We?! You're talking about the two of you? We are coming over there tomorrow; we will call when our flight gets in. _If you insist, Bye Elena. _Goodbye Bonnie, be careful._" He smiled at her as he finished.

Bonnie wanted to laugh; Damon could turn any situation, good or bad, according to his mood. Instead she stepped over to Damon and hugged him. She felt him kiss the top of her head, slowly like he wanted to remember it forever.

"So, do you know any dressmakers that are just nuts for the Renaissance? Or will we have to use the one listed on the back in Power?" Damon whispered this to Bonnie as he pulled away from her. She smiled at him again, the look in her eyes telling him that they would use the company listed on the back of the invitation.

* * *

Damon got into Bonnie's dark blue Mercedes-Benz, glancing at the interior thinking to himself that Bonnie made a pretty penny from her chosen profession. What had he wanted to become? Damon knew that he would have taken over the duties of his father, being the older son, but what had _he_ wanted to become when he entered the university? Damon could not remember, it was probably something his father adored and hated at the same time, like become a church lawyer, something that paid well and gave little emotional reward. Damon had always thought that an eternity followed by hell was better than what he had been destined for.

"Why are you looking like you just swallowed a lemon?"

Damon laughed and repeated most of his thoughts to her, adding, "But I am glad I gave it all up, that world had nothing for me then, I hadn't heard my mother's voice in well over a decade, I had lost the girl I thought I loved to my brother, I had just quit a prestigious university, and I had nothing. I gave up anything and everything that tied me to my past…besides my brother, Stefan," Damon had trouble getting his tongue to pronounce the name, he hadn't needed to really use it in years, "I didn't give up hating him, but I obeyed my mother's words, I did not go out of my way to do it." She looked at him, there wasn't pity in her eyes, and they both knew he didn't need any, but there certainly was understanding. Bonnie forced her mood to be more upbeat and turned on the car.

"So what does that address say?" She had stopped in the street, leaning over to look at the invitation, "I thought you said it was written..." Bonnie laughed and playfully pushed his shoulder, "It was written with _vampire_ Power and I can't read that! I get it. But what does it say, my gorgeous _vampire_ companion?" Smiling, Damon read out the address scrawled on the back of the heavy card, 1487 Salem Center Mall. This elicited a strange expression from Bonnie. _What?_ He looked from her to the number, wondering why it seemed so strange to her.

"That's the Hot Topic store address, and it doesn't seem like they would be selling clothes from five hundred years ago." Bonnie shrugged, to say that if the people at the store thought she and Damon were crazy she would make them forget their own names. Damon barely got the seatbelt on before the racecar engine of the Mercedes threw him back against his seat. He reached out to Bonnie's hand and patted it, saying with the touch of his hand that she had proved her point that _her_ car could go just as fast as _his_ car. Bonnie slowed to a more normal speed than that of sixty in half a second.

The store was stuffed to the breaking point with clothing, all sorts and sizes, with little color variation. Most subculture stores were like this one, with mindless music blaring over the customers' heads.

Bonnie sensed immediately that someone other than Damon was a vampire here, and that this someone was female. She broke away from Damon, reluctantly parting their interlocked fingers. _Go ask about the clothes_ she mouthed, sending the thought to him at the same time. He nodded, turning to go while Bonnie cautiously wound her way through the crowded aisles, scarcely noticing the bright sale tags and neon edging of black clothing. The faint hint of Power grew stronger, leading Bonnie to nearly the back of the store.

She could feel Damon tracking her presence, he would be there the instant he saw anything wrong. Bonnie turned the final corner, expecting to see a very surprised vampire crouching there. What she saw instead made her head spin. The person standing before Bonnie was clothed in black, straight dark hair spilling around proud shoulders, black eyes piercingly fixed on Bonnie, and skin that was an unhealthy color of cream. Bonnie's mind whispered to her that the stranger looked like Damon. The woman slowly raised her finger across her lips, a simple sign to be quiet. Bonnie obeyed and did not call for Damon, nor did she voice her surprise over the mental pathway that they shared.

"I just wanted to meet you, my father wouldn't let me come with him this morning, and he made me stay in the house." The dark woman's voice had a slight hint of aristocratic arrogance in it, like she was too well bred to stay in the house while her father went out. Bonnie's mind screamed what it had whispered before.

"But I knew that you would be here today, so I came in and waited, trying different things on so I had a reason to stay."

"Who are you?" Bonnie blurted out, knowing as the words came out of her mouth that she was being rude to this polite lunatic.

"I can't tell you that. Elias, my father, would be furious." This woman, who was not much bigger than Bonnie, smiled a secretive little smile, one that said she had just told Bonnie who she was. _Maria Salvatore_ Bonnie's mind supplied this as she looked again at the woman. _It's not fair to Damon that the women in his life that he cares about keep playing dead with him, first Katherine, then Elena, and now his own mother_. Bonnie hoped that this wasn't the time Damon chose to read her mind; he thought that Elias was playing a joke on him, tricking Damon into believing his mother was alive. She just hoped that she herself would never do such a seemingly heartless thing.

"Why don't you go over there and tell him, he will recognize you, he knows your face better than his own. He doubts Elias…a lot." Bonnie felt that Damon's dysfunctional family needed to be reunited, even if it was missing a member here or there. The beautiful woman standing before Bonnie shook her head, "I can't, and I have to get back. Besides, I want Damon's heart to still be in working order when he comes to the party." The joke fell on astonished ears.

"Elias said you weren't supposed to know!" Bonnie was surprised that the strongest vampire on earth couldn't keep his own daughter from hearing that her sons were alive, let alone where one of them was going to be.

"I can wheedle anything from Mother." Maria smiled like someone gone feral and then melted into a shadow, presumably to watch.

Bonnie returned to Damon, who was leaning against the counter that was in the center of the store.

"What'd you find?"

"Nothing, old vampire Power, but whoever it was, they were rather angry to leave such a mark. Oh well." Bonnie looked away from his eyes, his _mother's_ eyes, and into the fierce smoky blue of the checker.

"They will see you now; just go through the left hand door in the hallway." He was a weak vampire who wore a steel lip ring, and Bonnie noticed the blue jewel bead hanging from it. Damon nodded courteously at the surly young man, and led Bonnie towards the indicated hallway, which appeared to have come at the mere gesture of the boy's hand.

"Aha! The Silver One said you may be coming by, and that you did! Well, do step up, _lively_ there human, good girl. And you! Come up on this other stool, I will measure you myself; I can't believe the sight, a Salvatore, gracing _my_ humble shop!" The sprightly old man, a vampire by the blue jewel he wore on his ring, looked delighted at the sight of Bonnie and Damon weaving their way towards him between multitudes of fabric and partially completed outfits.

"And let's see, the color of your eyes, look at me girl! Aha, brown, I should have known! Maleen! I need the silk packet; an especially hard case just came in!" He seemed to yell everything at everyone, but as a small aged woman hurried forward to him, carrying a large wad of silk squares, he softened.

"Ah yes, how silly of me, we must be introduced! I am the Fitter of the Family, the family of the Old Ones of course, I go by the name of Jerek, and this is my lovely wife, Maleen. We will be seeing to your outfits personally because of your…lineage. Maleen, keeper of my heart, would you be so kind as to measure this elven beauty for her ball gown?" Jerek turned on Damon happily, while absentmindedly talking to the measuring tape. Maleen, however, seemed to still have control over most of her brain and its ramblings.

"Don't mind Jerek dearie, this shop and I are the only things he can really understand these days, and he's been this way for; oh let me think…I guess 30 years, more or less. Now, let me put this thing down," Bonnie helped the kind woman set down the surprisingly heavy rainbow colored packet, "and now, just step up on that stool, that's a good girl, now let's get your numbers." She whipped the yellowing tape around Bonnie quickly, measuring her waist, hips, and bust. Bonnie looked up at Damon, whose eyes were wide at the numbers Maleen rattled off to her husband as she wrote them down.

_What?_ She cast the thought to him, almost fearfully at the way he was looking at her.

_You're smaller than my mother._ The mental voice in Bonnie's head sounded wondering and more than a little shocked. Bonnie had to work to keep the fact that she had just _met_ his mother off of her mind. _Maria was bigger than me, and she emphasized it so well with her stance_. Bonnie wondered silently as this thought crystallized into a small realization, _maybe Maria could teach _me_ to do that. _

"Maleen, can I borrow that tape? Mine is beginning to split." Jerek was looking at Maleen with adoration in his sky blue eyes. Maleen stepped over to him, her white hair swinging as she kissed his cheek, while pressing the measuring tape into his wizened hand.

"Now, what color…Wait, follow me child, this must be a surprise to the men of the Family, especially _that_ member of it. Come on, don't be shy." Bonnie looked into charming amber colored eyes and followed Maleen into a neater room that was located in the back.

"This is much better; I had Minea put a spell on this place so no one can listen in. Jerek will talk to your Damon awhile longer; it should be long enough for us to try some colors." Maleen was bustling around to a desk in a discreet corner, opening a large lower drawer.

It occurred to Bonnie that while these people had seemed to know who Damon was by sight, they had so far failed to acknowledge the Heiress of NaLal, for which Bonnie was immediately grateful. There were people in this age who were best left with little to no intelligence on the whereabouts of the Leader-to-be.

"I thought you left the silk squares in the front room." The packet the old woman had emerged with was much larger with a wider array of ancient cloths.

"Oh, those are Jerek's, I have my own. He likely wanted them for your dress, but then he let me get my hands on you. Now he won't dare bother us. Aha! Won't he be disappointed." Bonnie thought that Maleen was like her husband in the peculiar way she said 'Aha', like she had just guessed the last piece of a murder mystery. Bonnie also noticed that the old woman enjoyed rambling, also like her husband.

"Is that your son out front, running the cash register?"

"Oh, Trenton, yes, that is our son, he looks so much like Jerek did when we were both young and beautiful. It is rather interesting to see the years pass us by while we are old but do not age." Maleen looked dreamy as her hunter's muscles helped her lift the giant packet of silk squares. She busily brought it to another desk, nearer to the door where Bonnie was standing.

"Ok, choose, let's see, a color for the chemise, then a color for the outer pieces of it, and then a color for all the borders and embroidery. Oh by the way, whatever color you choose some of the embroidery will be silver thread. Black on white or light pink would be a good choice with your skin and hair, but then we have to contend with your brown eyes…" Maleen looked as if she was at a loss for a few moments, while Bonnie flipped through the silks. Then as if she had never left off Maleen continued, "At least you don't have amber eyes like mine, for girls it is just the hardest thing to match with these days. Well, except maybe Lady Deria. She just doesn't fit well with colors; you could say they have a certain disagreement. Wait! That one, under the fawn, yes! That will put the whole thing together; let's write that down lass, what's the name on the color tag?"

"Electric Crimson, but I didn't say I wanted to have black as the color for the dress, I was just—"

"No, I saw it flicker in your eyes when I said black, so we are going to use it. You can choose the extra colors later. Now relax while I show you the mental image of the gown." Bonnie sighed at the eccentric woman's cunning; Bonnie had immediately thought of how the dress would look in black, with her hair cascading in braids down her back. The picture that flared in Bonnie's mind only confirmed that the dress would be more perfect than the blue one Elena had had made for herself in high school.

Maleen's eyes widened, and Bonnie felt Power on the other side of the door. Bonnie turned towards the entrance, meaning to hold it closed, but the door was already opening, revealing Jerek and Damon with imploring looks on their faces.

"No you may _not_ learn the colors, or decade style of this dress, it is going to be a complete surprise to all, even the Silver One if he decides that he won't probe our minds. So you can just return to what ever boyish things you were doing!" Maleen seemed bent on keeping the secret vision contained merely to herself and Bonnie. Bonnie secretly agreed, knowing it would shock Damon with the bold contrasts, and she did not like it when Damon was speechless. To Bonnie it did not seem right that _Damon_ of all people should be unable to speak even incoherent sentences.

"Then you aren't going to find out what _his_ clothing will look like! Fancy you to want to keep this lass's dress secret and not any others. Humph! Well, women should be permitted secrets, eh lad? Else we'd be barking mad at the tangents their lives take. Do buy something from our boy Trenton on your way out; he gets angered by the humans laughing at him behind his back. Though I do think that if he would get rid of that scowl them girls would be pleased to talk to the lad. Well, be on your way younglings." Bonnie and Damon were turning odd colors as they both tried valiantly to not laugh at the way Jerek easily turned from subject to subject. Maleen looked at Bonnie and Damon gleefully as they fought their way through her shop, stumbling as they struggled against gales of laughter. Jerek merely looked at them strangely, saying something about "Mad youngsters running around" and then turning back to his work.

Bonnie and Damon separated inside of the normal store, laughing every time they met each other's eyes. Bonnie went straight for the pants, searching for something silver and black, to try to give Damon a hint on what her dress would look like since Maleen had erased everything but the colors in her mind. Bonnie found what she was looking for almost instantly. The pair she had found was black, the bottom hemlines broken by silver zippers that opened up the pant legs to reveal the ankle and calf, and there was an added bonus of red stitching. She thought about the dress, only a haze in her own imagination, and decided that if Damon did not get the hint, that was his fault. She looked up, searching for Damon. He was carelessly flipping through the rock tee shirts. Colors whirled as he went past well known bands, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, ZZ Top, and Foreigner. Bonnie strode over to him, the black pants draped over her arm, "Find any you like?" Damon glanced down at her, black eyes showing happiness.

"No, not yet, wait," Damon walked around Bonnie, looking intently at something that was behind her. Bonnie turned, and then realized he was heading to the corner that Maria had drifted into. Bonnie was about to move to stop him, but he picked a blue sweater up. Holding it up to the light, Damon read the text embossed into the front. Bonnie waited with baited breath as she felt Maria's mental fingerprint light up. The laugh that finally emerged from Damon was genuine, and Bonnie stepped over to Damon to join in on the joke, relieved that he had not noticed the vampire hiding in the shadows.

_I know how you feel. I just don't care._ The sweater made Bonnie laugh too.

"I think I need that for when we pick Stefan and Elena up from PDX, they might get a kick out of it too." Damon held the heavy material up to Bonnie, as if measuring it against what he saw. He nodded, and then pulled her into a tight hug, something Bonnie would have never expected, even from someone she knew. _I really don't have friends who trust me, not even my family does this anymore_. The thought was accompanied by a small sob, Damon didn't care about what she was, he only cared that she was happy. Damon hushed her, his fingertips barely brushing her lips. Then, before Bonnie realized what he was doing, Damon had swept her up into the air calling to the vampire at the register, "I hope you don't mind if I steal this from myself, I just decided that I need her more than the human race does at the moment." Still holding her in the air, he picked up the sweater and pants and placed them on the counter. Trenton laughed, and then took the proffered clothing. As he rang up the items Damon turned his attention to Bonnie. He kissed her forehead, and then whispered in Latin.

"Damon, what are you doing?" Bonnie felt safe, but Damon had something planned. Why would he be praying if he wasn't?

"Nothing at all, not anything important, besides this." Bonnie felt muscles beneath her suddenly flex. The next thing she knew was that she was ten feet in the air. She shrieked, not from fear, she knew Damon would catch her, but because of the sudden change in altitude resulted in an eerie feeling weightless. The next instant she was back in Damon's arms, regaining her sense of balance. As soon as Damon thought she had recovered, he set Bonnie on her feet, then put his arms protectively around her.

"Is there anything else that you may have been looking for?" Trenton's voice gave away that he thought Bonnie was weak simply because she had screamed. Bonnie glared at him, tucking herself further into Damon's embrace.

"No, that's all for today, thank you." The youth's face darkened when Damon did not chide Bonnie for not saying something nice to the weak vampire, because even if he was weak, a human was supposed to respect him. Trenton obviously thought that Bonnie _was_ just another human, one that was only guaranteed to live a mortal life, a life that could be cut off more easily than thread from a spindle.

Unthinkingly Bonnie lashed out with her Power, though her training kept her identity secret from this fiend's mind. The shot was too weak to do any damage, mental or physical, but Trenton got the message; the Power that Bonnie would recover from Nature should have been visible to any vampire, however weak they were. Bonnie felt Damon repressing chuckles from the look on Trenton's face.

"Like I said before, thank you and goodbye." Taking her cue, Bonnie picked up the black sack from Trenton's trembling hand, and then she and Damon walked out of the store.

The mall offered no more amusement for either of them, but they wandered around it nonetheless. Damon opened up as they walked, talking about the world he grew up in, comparing it to the one Bonnie had known until she was seventeen. Bonnie wondered how many calls she had missed so far, surely someone else she knew had been invited to this party. Damon joked that Matt and his football buddies would be outside of the house with sharpened baseball bats. Bonnie laughed uneasily. This wasn't because she didn't find the remark funny, she did, but she didn't like to think of Matt armed.

"Bonnie what's wrong?" Bonnie didn't realize she had shuddered at the image of Matt with a bat in hand until Damon brought her back to reality with his voice.

"Oh, sorry Damon. Nothing, really I'm fine." She smiled, but knew that Damon saw right through the false security of her voice and expression.

"Tell me Bonnie. What made you...?" Damon trailed off, seeing the fright steal into her face, telling him she didn't want to talk about what had happened that made her nervous of his careless joke.

"Please don't make me; I don't want to talk about it. Just forget anything happened. Please?" Bonnie knew he would not forget what had happened; he made a point of not forgetting things. Damon shrugged, showing that he would pursue the subject another time.

* * *

Matt was livid. Standing in the main hallway of his home he stared at the picture he and Bonnie had posed for when they had gotten engaged. She looked so happy, content in the circle of his arms. Then he had broken her trust and a good many other things. Matt had tried to repair it, but Bonnie had stated clearly that she didn't want to speak to him again in a brutally short letter. And now she had taken his words of that drunken night seriously and run to…that blood sucking monster.

Matt had looked incredulously at the small dark haired woman who gave him a heavy card. Her words rang in his ears, "She'll be there if you come, and you may be able to win her back if you do nothing rash. Maria hopes you challenge her son, she says it will gladden the girl's heart. So don't play into her hands, if you value your life, Maria has held this grudge for far too long against you to let you off easily." After reading the invitation, and inferring that the Maria on the card was the same that the mysterious woman had mentioned, Matt had called Stefan. He had received a busy line, so he had called Elena's cell phone. Elena had confirmed that yes, Stefan's mother was named Maria, and then Elena had told him that Damon was at Bonnie's.

"Bonnie, if you wanted to get back at me with my own words, why so literally?" Matt spoke severely to the heart shaped face in the picture with the fixed happiness of a girl just out of her teens; happiness that had been shattered years ago. The restraining order had taken care that he didn't try to rebuild any of the old joy. Matt picked up the cordless phone, dialing the number he wasn't allowed to call by court order, and waited while it rang.

One…two…three…four, and then the answering machine picked up, "Hi! The number you have reached is 503-838-2185, the residence of Bonnie McCullough. Please leave your name, number, and a short message. Thanks!" Bonnie's bright voice, combined with the fact that he had forgotten the real sound of it, caused Matt to nearly choke as the harsh beep in his ear signaled that the machine had started recording.

"Uh, hi Bonnie, it's Matt. I was just calling to see if you are okay. Could you call me back before nine? Be careful, I mean, oh hell. I'm so sorry Bonnie." Matt hurriedly set the phone on its charging cradle. _What the hell am I doing? I'm begging Damon to warp her mind and get her to come after me like she did to Tyler, that's what I'm doing_. Matt sank down against the wall opposite to the picture of himself and the love of his life. He couldn't kill Damon in a fight, and unless he got the vampire first, Matt was a dead man when Bonnie told of the terrible event that had occurred in this very room.

Unable to think of anything else Matt returned to the pleasant memories of Bonnie, her golden red hair, tiny features, her laugh. Matt knew now how Stefan had felt when Elena had been simply a spirit to be communicated with. Matt could feel everything about Bonnie, her lips, her hair, the soft pale skin that was murder to the senses to touch, but everything escaped his fingers when they clenched the imaginary red silk of her hair. Damon had them now. Matt refused to let the vampire win, though at the same time he knew Bonnie would rather give Damon anything he wanted than look at her ex.

He jumped as the doorbell rang, leaving half imagined echoes humming through the almost empty house. Getting up with out kicking something over took effort, but Matt made it to the front door without punching a wall or destroying a table. Throwing open the door was a release of his emotions.

"What are you doing here Caroline?" Matt didn't bother to conceal his frustration, nor did he make an effort to smile at Elena's friend. Caroline looked like she had had a similar day to his, her cat green eyes angered, her normally pouted mouth pulled tight in leashed fury. Caroline glared at him, her tanned skin unnaturally pale beneath a light dusting of makeup.

"Stefan called, he said to make sure you don't go and get yourself killed. He is lucky that I was in Pendleton when he called, or else I would have told him to do it himself. Then, to add to my already ruined photo shoot day, a psychotic guy with silver hair hands me this paper while I am stopped at an intersection in town." Caroline paused to pull a folded card out of her purse; a card that looked remarkably like the one Matt had received earlier that morning.

"Then the guy says since I am heading your way that I should take the next left because there was going to be a traffic accident a few blocks up. Of course there was, this is the foothills of Seattle, Washington for God's sake!" Caroline glared at the imaginary foe, "So what is going on Matt? I mean this invitation, Stefan calling in the middle of a photo shoot for Fitness magazine, the guy who knew where I was going, all that." Caroline acted like she always did around her old school friends, she always put on the mask of 'I am a movie star, I'm writing a book, and you are not so why should I speak to _you_?' Matt tried to breathe around Caroline's haughty behavior, telling himself fiercely that Caroline had remained Elena's friend for the last decade. It didn't help, it instead fanned his anger toward Caroline.

"Do you know why Stefan called? Do you? No, you don't, I bet you didn't even bother to find out Caroline. You were too caught up in your own life, your petty whims, to ask about anything else." Matt had calmed his voice to a deadly whisper that hissed between his lips. Without waiting for her to respond he continued.

"Stefan called because that invitation, well, we all have gotten one. Stefan and Elena, Bonnie, Meredith and Alaric, and guess who else, come on Caroline, guess."

"I don't know who else would be invited, Vickie is dead, and Bonnie killed that creature Tyler eight years ago. So I don't know Matt, who?" Caroline had reverted to her mask of indifference; she often did this to Matt in particular, which annoyed him even more.

"You remember Stefan's brother right? He got invited, and he's at Bonnie's." Caroline's sharply indrawn breath showed that she remembered Damon. She had only seen him three or four times during their senior year at Robert E. Lee High School, but Matt had found that people usually remembered the Salvatore brothers when either one was described or mentioned.

"So you are going to go get yourself killed Matt? I might have been in shock that night, but I saw that Stefan's brother put a small tree through that other guy. I don't think---what was his name?—don't think Damon will even _hesitate_ to do something like that to you." Caroline had dropped all of her airs of someone too important to talk to her friends. Matt knew her well enough to see that she was concerned about him.

"No, well, maybe. If she doesn't call me back I am going to go see if she is okay." Caroline's expression changed from concern back to the maddeningly arrogant woman the rest of the world saw.

"I haven't told the others because Bonnie didn't want me to, Matt, but I know what happened that night ten years ago. I also know about the restraining order. You aren't supposed to call her; if she reports you to the court you can kiss your football career goodbye. You would break even more parts of the order if you go see her. Damon and Stefan's kind only exists in the movies to the rest of the world, so you would never be able to explain going to her house." Caroline held up one of her tanned hands to stem the angry torrent of words from Matt and then continued,

"What would you tell the judge Matt? 'My ex-fiancé is seeing a vampire, I was concerned about her.' That won't work, the judge would have a laughing fit, and then he would sentence you to go to a mental health seminar in some state prison. If Bonnie feels threatened by you," again Caroline hushed Matt, "She will, trust me, when I visited her last month she froze up when I mentioned you. Terrified, absolutely terrified, any idiot _without_ a brain could see that." Matt slumped at the last words; they lacerated every memory of Bonnie, telling him she had lost whatever love she had ever held for him.

"So did you call Stefan on your jet to find out what was going on?" Matt felt every fire that had flared that day die inside of him, leaving his voice emotionless.

"I already told you, I don't know anything right now, except for a rushed phone call from Stefan. It is nice in a sick way to hear him flustered; he hasn't been for as long as I've known him." Caroline smiled, and Matt realized he was standing outside of his house, so he gestured for Caroline to come in. It would be easier to sort things out when he was able to sit down and think.

"So, did you call Stefan?" Caroline was looking around his home with minimal interest, scanning the entire room with a single glance.

"Yes, I called their home phone, then Elena's cell. I don't know which is worse, that Bonnie hates me or that she ran off to that monster." Caroline whipped around to stare at Matt.

"Monster? Bonnie thinks that you are a monster Matt, I think that she probably feels safe with Damon, he didn't break every promise he made her."

"He hasn't made any promises to her!" Matt snapped. He couldn't keep his anger in control when Caroline suggested that _he_ was the evil party involved.

"How do you know that Matt, how do you know about anything like that? Have you been spying on her? I can call her cell phone and tell her. For all we know right now they could have been seeing each other for a month." Caroline reached for her phone as she stopped speaking.

"I didn't know she had a cell phone. No Caroline, I get all my information from Stefan and Elena, not from my own excursions. When did she get it?"

"I made her get it so that she could call me at any time of day if she felt threatened. So she obviously doesn't feel threatened by Damon, or she would have called me long before now." Caroline flashed him her tigress smile, then returned to opening the cell phone and dialing Bonnie's number with almost practiced slowness. Matt was angered that Caroline had conveniently forgotten that Damon could take Bonnie's phone away from her in less than an instant. But he didn't want to fight Caroline when she had her mind bent on something, because it usually ended in tears for all parties involved, so he said:

"Okay, okay, don't call her, I won't go and see her, you would get a hold of her before I got out of the suburbs." Matt felt the last fire that had kept him going, the one where Caroline was on his side, die.

"Good. Now, Bonnie is smart enough to call me if he threatens her, and anyway he probably can't stop her sending one of those neat psychic messages to me. So don't worry about it Matt, she'll be fine." Caroline smiled at Matt, though he saw that the smile looked strained.

"Okay, what ever you say master." Matt had lost all reasons to make an effort to be cheerful. Caroline knew how to twist situations around her little finger, and she had Matt wound tightly around her finger. _So this is why Stefan called Caroline instead of me or Bonnie's coworkers_, Matt thought impassively as Caroline sat on his couch and crossed her long legs, _She was the only other person who knows the whole story and therefore the only person besides me or Bonnie who could make me see reason_.

* * *

"Meredith, James is covered in mud, I refuse to put him in the car like this and he refuses to take a shower or change clothes!" Alaric's voice came from James' bedroom as Meredith passed by.

"That's because he is your son, Alaric." She said sweetly to him as she backtracked to look in on the three year old and her husband. James _was_ covered in mud, and Alaric had gotten rather muddy himself in his battle with the willful young boy. Sizing up the situation, Meredith calmly worked out a plan to get the two to agree.

"I refuse to put _you_ in the car just as much as him Alaric," turning to the dark headed little boy with his father's hazel eyes she said, "James, if Daddy changes, will you? For Mommy?" James looked from one parent to the other and nodded.

"Okay Mommy, but Daddy _has_ to change too." The boy rubbed his nose with a dirty hand. Meredith kissed his forehead, and then pecked Alaric on the cheek. He beamed at her from under a spackling of drying mud.

"So, get anybody at Bonnie's?" Meredith shook her head as she headed towards Daniela's room at the end of the hall. Meredith had called everywhere she knew that Bonnie had a phone, home phone, home office, work, even Bonnie's mother in Fell's Church.

"No, no one picked up, and her mother swore at me when I mentioned Bonnie. Daniela? Are you ready? We are leaving in fifteen minutes and I want everyone's things in the front hall before then." A six year old girl who looked like a copy of Meredith when she was young came out of her room with a small suitcase in one hand and a CD player in the other.

"Yeah I'm ready. Can I borrow Dad's Warren Zevon disk, I haven't listened to Vera Cruz for a _really_ long time."

Alaric nodded, and Daniela skipped into his office happily, her dark hair flying.

"So you never told me what Bonnie does in a graveyard with vampires, and now in this relative calm I want you to tell me. Please?" Alaric was unnaturally interested in vampires, psychics, witches, and the associated ilk. But then again, he had resources abound, so he wanted to learn as much as possible about these mythical people. Since they lived in Salem, Massachusetts, Bonnie visited them often, sharing information on the different races that humans believed to be fictional.

"She meets with them to hear their complaints about humans, the Nikam have granted her the right to take care of matters in Salem and the surrounding area. You _do_ remember who the Nikam are right?" Alaric nodded, and muttered something under his breath. "What did you say?" Meredith thought she had heard Damon's name in Alaric's remark.

"I said that if Damon sticks around for long I can ask him about vampire politics because Stefan doesn't know very much besides the laws involved. I really do need to know about them if I am to learn anything about their culture." Alaric shrugged at Meredith's calculating look.

"You know Bonnie said that too much interest in vampires causes vampires to take too much interest in you. She has had several stalkers, all vampires. Alaric…" Meredith trailed off; she knew that if Alaric wanted to do something, he did it, regardless of the opinions of others.

"I know, I remember what she said. I also know that I want to talk to Stefan's brother." He caught her arm as she turned to go. Alaric pulled Meredith into his soft embrace and kissed her. They only stopped when Meredith heard her children giggling at the sight of their parents.

"Daddy's dirty, and now you're dirty too Mommy." James choked out the simple sentence between gales of laughter. He made Daniela laugh harder than ever. "You both have to change now, like you made me change." At this Meredith regally looked down her nose at him.

"_I_ am never dirty young man, whatever _you_ may think." They all laughed until Alaric, gasping for breath said that if they were going to make the plane they should leave soon.

After they had both changed from soiled clothing, Alaric and Meredith helped their two children load the trunk of the car with luggage. As Alaric pulled out of the driveway, Meredith tried to remember the last time they had come to Bonnie's rescue. It was…Meredith grasped at the thoughts, but met only random facts, never the memories she wanted to see. Sighing she settled back into the front seat of the car, listening to James tell her about his playmate Michael.

"…And then he said that if the puddle was deep he would give me a dollar. A whole dollar Mom! So I jumped in, and look Mom, he gave me _two_ dollars…" His voice drifted to Meredith as she dozed off.

* * *

Bonnie put away the new clothing when she and Damon got back to her house. As she came back in through the living room to the kitchen she saw Damon leaning against the wall looking at her answering machine intently. At the same time she realized he was sending Power into it.

"What are you doing?" She came up beside him innocently.

"Reading your messages, you do have quite a few." He stepped back allowing Bonnie to press the play button on the little machine.

"Message one…'Bonnie? This is Meredith, I am going to call your work phone now, I am just checking in with you. Alaric wants to talk to Damon; I don't know exactly what for just yet, something about politics. We are going on the red eye flight to Portland, so expect us sometime tomorrow morning. Hope to see you there! I have my cell, so just call if bright and early tomorrow won't work.'…End of message. Message two…'Bonnie, hi this is Caroline, Stefan just called me. He thinks Matt is going to go ballistic on Stefan's brother and Stefan doesn't want to see Matt hurt. I am going to come by later today, _without_ Matt. See you later Bonnie.'…End of message. Message three…'Uh, hi Bonnie, it's Matt. I was just calling to see if you are okay. Could you call me back before nine? Be careful, I mean, oh hell. I'm so sorry Bonnie.'…End of messages."

Damon noted how Bonnie froze when Matt's voice had come from the rectangular box and how she had remained frozen for an instant after it had clicked off. He wondered if Caroline knew the story.

He was amazed at the amount of sheer psychic Power Bonnie had, not the vampire Power that had increased since the previous night, but the Power her heritage gave her. Before now, Damon had heard of psychics that made hundreds of people forget they saw some event, but never of a psychic that had begun training late in her teens able to make her own leader forget something important.

What had finally convinced Damon to come to Bonnie was when Amy Crommin could not remember who Matt Honeycutt was or what he had once meant to Bonnie. Damon was surprised when he heard this, the Avian witches had been telling him news of Bonnie ever since he had realized his feelings for her, and the Avian Power was particularly strong in the area of reading situations from afar. The Avians had told him that Matt had been accepted by Amy as suitable for Bonnie to wed. How could Amy not remember _that_? Without meaning to, he found a memory from years before about the first time he had given Bonnie a dream.

* * *

"Check your records if you don't believe me." Damon was uncomfortable sitting in the presence of this witch, but since it was necessary for him to gain what he wanted he was going to do it.

"And I ask you again, why would _you_ save an Avian hunter and let them live? I will not ask you again vampire, and we will not let you leave alive if this proves a joke." Damon sighed at this new Leader's naivety, the previous one, a man, had been hunting non-Italian vampires with Damon's help for decades.

"And I said check your records, since most Children of Avian don't believe until the truth is waved before their noses." It had been that same with Gianni, the previous Leader, he had not believed Damon when he had told this story.

"Fine, I won't challenge a vampire at table, it is bad form. Genevieve, please get the records from the years 1604 and 1605, and then get Gianni's journals from 1970 to 1976." The young woman looked suspicious of Damon, and with that look he recognized her, she was Gianni's youngest daughter. Monika was the best hunter born to the Avian line since its creation, but against Damon she had no chance, not because he was a better fighter, which he was, but because he was just as Italian as she.

Genevieve bustled back into the room, carrying two bundles. Though both were handled gingerly, though it was obvious which one she was more reluctant to hand over to Monika.

"I'm not going to set fire to Avian records you damned traitor! Put it down or I will lock you in a little room with your lover Yassal!" Damon was only mildly surprised at this outburst, it was obvious that Gianni had raised this woman; she had his temper and his commanding air. _Good things for a hunter_, he mused, _but not well for public relations. _

"So are you going to glare at me, or are you going to look up my tale, as written down by the faithful Leader Leonardo Avian?" This caused the desired effect of a scowl and furious page turning. Damon liked to annoy Avian witches, especially after he had learned that they couldn't tell some other line to specifically kill _him_ until he did something stupid.

"Who is Yassal, if I might ask?" Damon knew perfectly well who Yassal _was_ but he was wondering if the man had changed in the last twenty five years. The look on Monika's face was disdainful as she answered him.

"Yassal is a disowned Man of Avian; he went crazy as an Italian vampire took his Power. Why Italian you might ask? Because only an Italian can strip an Avian of Power and this guy was a friend of my father's. Heaven knows why Gianni made friends with a guy who might turn on him any minute. Oh, what dates should I look for in July?" Damon relaxed one muscle at a time as he told Monika the days to look for.

"Okay, I found it." Monika propped the book open on the table and began to read.

"July 17, 1604. Today Christiana went on her first solo hunt. She expects to be back by dawn of tomorrow…Vampire brought Christiana back shortly after midnight. She shows no signs of being fed off of, though she has a broken arm and a concussion, and I have healed both. Vampire's name is Damon Salvatore, born in Florence, Italy on July 13, 1487 and died on June 28, 1509. He has one living family member, Stefan, also vampire. The Avian line is indebted to this vampire, because without Christiana we are lost, and I, Leonardo Avian, award him a boon. He may ask for this favor at any time, whether in my lifetime or that of one of my successors." Monika glared at Damon when he smiled as she closed the journal.

"So, you are Damon Salvatore?" Her tone was skeptical, as if she didn't completely believe him.

"Yes, and if you would read the other journal, the one kept by your father, you will see I proved that my hide isn't as worthless as everyone thinks." Monika raised an eyebrow to indicate that she wholly approved of what 'everyone' thought. Shaking her head she picked up the much newer looking journal. Opening it she began turning the pages, searching for Damon's name in the neat script of her father.

"...Other news, known vampire Damon Salvatore has visited me. He had tracked down the compound from a connection of his. As I write he is pacing nervously around my study, muttering in Latin. He says that as he crossed the border from France to Italy he had a psychic vision. This would not have disturbed him so much, he says, but for the fact that it had the crimson red of NaLal. He says that he has had such visions before, but never with such a specific origin Power. I have searched the records and he appears rather significantly in the journal of Leonardo, in the year marking of 1604-1605…" Monika stared down at the next few lines, and he could feel the denial in her mind. Damon had felt the same denial from Gianni after he had broken the would-be assassin's neck and drained the blood from the compact body.

Gianni had pledged another boon to Damon, for saving his life. Damon had thanked the mortal, though found no answer for his problem from the little man. Gianni had also been the first human to remotely trust Damon in nearly four hundred years.

When Gregory, better known as Yassal, betrayed Gianni, Gianni had asked Damon to strip him of Power. Damon, amused, had accepted the offer. Losing so much Power could turn the minds of most humans, but to lose it to one's sworn enemy was enough to twist Yassal's mind beyond human comprehension.

"Okay, if Father believed you a friend, then you must be a friend. My own mother wasn't Father's friend. So what do you want? I truly must get on with my life, since it will not last nearly as long as yours even if I have a good hand in the matter." Monika had assumed a business like air, her body language saying that if she had to deal with Damon to get him to leave, she would gladly do it.

"I need to, what's a good word for my dilemma…spy on a certain woman. That is my request for now. Will you do it?" Damon too had gained the businesslike air, for much the same reason.

"Just who is this woman, and why would a killer like you bother in spying with the help of the Avian, when you could just as easily take her by force?" Damon had expected nothing less in this conversation, and had prepared himself for two days prior to coming to this secret stronghold of witches. Taking a deep breath he began.

"This woman is Bonnie McCullough. Why do I not just stun her with Power and take her? Because one, I would be put to death and I have come close enough to death in the last six months that I do not want to carry out the experience, and two that she is only eighteen, she does not need me to create a shadow in her life." Damon's throat tightened the same way it had when he had been walking in one of the gardens and he had seen Stefan timidly kiss Katherine. He supposed it was a different emotion this time, but Damon knew that he had left Bonnie to Matt, and that was almost the same as Stefan and Katherine.

"You think I will spy on one of Amy's line!? Do you think I _want_ to die? Besides, if Amy—"

"If Amy Crommin is angered by your actions you have the option of saying that you were merely honoring a promised favor. _I_ certainly won't let a foreigner kill a fellow Italian just for being respectable. And let me tell you something Monika Jeanette Avian, I didn't save your father because I wanted to be accepted, that was the last thing on my mind, but I killed that assassin because he was trying to kill a man who had just as much right to live as I." Damon was losing his outward contempt and arrogance, and as he realized this he also realized that he really didn't care. "Vampires and witches would have been killed off completely if Anthony of Greece had not courted Minea's affection in this very way. If I remember correctly he asked an Avian witch to do the spells. Bonnie is…vulnerable, and I don't think…" Damon trailed off, cursing himself for his momentary loss of emotional control. Monika eyed him skeptically as she mulled over what he had said in her mind. Finally she nodded.

"I know the lore; I also know that it is your life, not mine, that will be taken when Amy of NaLal finds us out. Give me until midnight for the spell." Damon stood up to leave her alone until the said time, when she caught his arm with an iron grip.

"Why did you save the girl Christiana? The journal of Brennan says that the story she told him was that she had been stalking a weak foreign vampire who led her into a trap. Then she told Brennan that you came along and killed the other vampires with as much effort as it takes to walk. All the other records that mention you say that you are a cold blooded killer that everyone would love to murder. Why, Salvatore, why save someone whose counterparts may kill you the moment you turned your back?" Damon smirked at Monika, and felt the anger rise in her mind at the expression on his face.

"Why would your beloved _father_ do such a thing? He and I were a team, leaving little work for you besides that of keeping foreign vampires _out_ of Italy. He was bound by laws he could not change to not kill me, as was Christiana, but I am allowed total freedom in that area. I can kill who ever I want at any time I want. But killing is no fun anymore because Bonnie changed me, and I want to find out if it was for the better."

"What do you mean 'changed' you? She is an untrained eighteen year old psychic." Monika had moved away from him, as she had when he had appeared in her dining room as a crow.

"I don't find my usual reward in killing, the high is gone. It is for the better, I know the speech, but no vampire that I have heard of has ever lost the appetite for the hunt, for the kill." Damon had retreated to his emotionless mask that he wore around others of his kind, the mask that sent chills down the spines of mortals because of the marble-like quality his face took on. Monika, however, seemed to be unfazed.

"I don't give a damn about whether you know the speech on right and wrong Salvatore; you know that to kill another living being—"

"Do humans feel sorry for cattle?" he snapped, "Do humans think about who had to _die_ to feed them? I live off of human blood, and if I no longer have a reason to kill my food, I hardly think you should lecture me about it." He had lost control for a second time, hardly daring to believe such an event could happen to him.

"Then get out of my home leech, since you deprived me of my ranting."

Damon smiled, an especially icy smile, and willed his body to take the form of a crow. He could feel Monika's fury from miles away as he searched for a lone human to feed off of.

The spell, when he returned hours later, was a simple one resembling the one Bonnie had used to call Stefan to Fell's Church to find a solution for Elena. He already knew the one ingredient that Monika would not have, a strong memory of Bonnie. He had forced himself to sleep when he had checked into the hotel, to find a suitable memory for the procedure. The one he finally decided on was the one of the clearing. The clearing where he had realized he loved, more than everything else, her, and where he had been a gentleman and an idiot and given Matt a chance for her hand.

"Ready?" Monika had a bowl of hot water in front of her. Damon noted the insignia molded into the side of the simple silver dish. It was a single dove with the greenish blue of the Avian magic entwining around outstretched wings. Under the beautiful bird, letters were etched deeply. Damon read them easily; they were Latin and translated to "Above the evil, I flew from Avis and then killed him with my Latin cunning."

The legend that surrounded the bird and quote was that when Dania was forced to drink the blood of Avis, she took the form of a bird and flew away from him. When he had retired to his bed she crept up on him and murdered him in his sleep. Dania then took his name to mix with her own, as an eternal trophy.

"Yes, what do you need from me?" He said, sitting down and looking from Monika to Genevieve. The woman had aged; she was not the beauty she had been when he had taken Yassal's Power. Instead, she had the slightly dazed look of someone in shock. _Thought I was going to never come back Gena?_ Damon called Genevieve the nickname everyone besides Monika used, and had the satisfaction of seeing her jump. She had basic Powers, the ones Yassal had given her, and those Powers were keen to join those that inhabited Damon's veins.

"No, I knew you would come back, eventually, but I had hoped so fervently that it would not be in my lifetime." Damon remembered that she had been fifteen when he had drained her lover of Power. Monika drew his attention back to the spell at hand.

"Well, Salvatore, I need your blood, and after that I have all the ingredients. After I get the spell going though, you control what happens inside of it. The memory you use will set where the vision is and who is in it. It will be easier to track down her mind if I put some of my blood into the spell." She picked up a short blade which had come from nowhere and cut her thumb open. Damon was glad that he had fed before this spell when the scent of Monika's blood reached his senses. Monika quickly squeezed several drops of blood into the water and handed the knife to Damon. He cut his own finger and allowed his blood to drip slowly into the rusty water.

"Now, the memory you use will be a starting place, if you are content to do your business within the dream, that is fine, but if you want to see her in real-time I must add vervain to the spell before I begin it." Damon nodded, and stopped her when she picked up the vervain.

"I just want to see her, to feel her mind again. It is a nice feeling, you know." Of course Monika couldn't know what it felt like; she didn't have five hundred years of Power built up, built up so strongly that it flowed through her very blood.

"Alright vampire." The reply came distractedly, as the witch started to concentrate somewhere else.

Monika started chanting Bonnie's name in the tongue of the dove. It was a strange sound, cooing with abrupt endings of sound. The languages of birds, particularly doves, were favored for the magic of the proud Avian Leaders.

Damon looked into the water and saw the clearing again how it had been. The trees smoked slightly from their recent burning, the rain pattered faintly around in his head as he remembered every detail. When all was perfect, from Meredith's blood soaked jeans to Stefan's ripped clothing with whole skin beneath it, Damon moved towards the blood connection from Monika that speeded the search for Bonnie's mind.

_Bonnie. Where are you?_ He called this to the red glow that he recognized as Bonnie's. Damon read easily that she was sleeping, which was not strange, she was ill and had gone to bed early. Bonnie's unconscious mind grasped at his, telling him she thought he was actually there. Then when he had the awareness of Bonnie's subconscious as well, Damon showed her the clearing where they had all fought Klaus.

"…You see? I'm not like you." Damon shared this memory at the same time as Bonnie learned in her deepest conscious, the one she could not access without special preparations, that he loved her. Damon showed her this while the memory continued to play in both of their minds. What he didn't show her was that he had been listless for days after he had given Matt his chance. And that he had regretted his decision many times in the months that followed. Damon exchanged his own memories for the ones he gained from Bonnie. When he finally dragged himself away from Bonnie's now troubled, yet content mind, he looked up at Monika.

"So you love her do you? And you threw away the chance that she could love you as well for…for some potentially violent human? Why the hell did you do _that_?" Monika seemed to be in some kind of indecision about how to react, struggling between whether to sit in stunned silence at the fact that Damon loved one of the most sought after women of the vampire and witch world, or to laugh at his loss of Bonnie.

"Yes I love her, and she will hate me if I take Matt away. If I kill him she will never forgive me. If I simply convince him to leave her she will always suspect me of getting rid of him and the situation is that if I court her while Matt looks on he will challenge me in some stupid way, or throw his life away by attacking me in cold blood. I love Bonnie McCullough, but I have to wait until she tires of Matt, or until she comes back to me willingly." Damon sighed and stood up, realizing that it was nearly dawn. Had he drawn out the dream so long to feel Bonnie's annoyed happiness? _Yes, I did_, he thought as he offered a hand to Monika. She took it and heaved herself up to stand.

"We can continue, if you wish, because I would not have survived childhood without my father and you saved him from certain death." Damon looked at her blankly, wondering why she would even care about a vampire that had startled her during her morning meal.

"I mean giving her dreams; though closer to dawn would help with the time differences, she will not always be sick." Damon nodded, he knew that while all witches were proud, Monika's line was especially so. If Monika wanted to give him a gift, he would accept it or risk the wrath of a wounded pride.

"Thank you. I know we are not friends; but I will be your ally in your epic quest to kill everyone who isn't Italian. Your father and I were allies, I led the kin of my line into Gianni's deadly traps and he kept the Eytherans off of my heels." Damon smiled a little at the look on Monika's face; she had obviously never asked about the lone vampire who helped to kill his own kind.

"You're welcome." The reply was short, an obvious dismissal.

"Will you tell her about me? I really hope you don't, this is part of a game, Monika, and if you tell her it will be over before it has started." The short woman before him with the gold eyes of a hawk and the tawny hair of a lion smiled.

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Review?

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Oh...and I am updating in this rush because 1) I missed a few sundays, which I promised I wouldn't...and 2) it looks like I'm going to miss a lot of sundays.

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REVIEW? 


	5. Chapter 5

Well, this is the start of a story which I'll update every week, on sunday mornings. It has 94 pages completed on the word processor. **I don't own Bonnie or Damon, but I do love the idea that they would get together.** I'm sorry that this doesn't even begin to measure up to the longest completed D/B fic on here, Bloodlust. I have read that...and it is the best. Sticks to everything, everyone is normal, no OOC, and Damon gets the redhead. I am happy with that. 

This story is set 10 (or something) years after all that (books, not bloodlust) happened. I started writing it about 4 years ago...so it is...ya get it.

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"Damon?" Bonnie's voice brought him back to life and to the one he loved. The look on her features told him that he had dragged her along for the memory of Monika Avian.

"So it was you! I think that I knew it, but whenever I tried to remember who the Power belonged to it escaped like…like sand through a sieve. The dreams always made me happy and angry. Oh Damon don't look at me like that! Please?" Damon stared at her, pain in his face, and Bonnie knew it was because he thought he had caused her frustration. She reached up and touched the side of his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

"I was never angry at _you_, it is just I never knew why you left me, all alone, seemingly at the end of the world. Everything was good for a few months, I got accepted at the junior college, then I had the first dream, and I always woke up only knowing a little more as to why you left." Damon had lifted his hand so he could brush the strands of silk soft red hair out of Bonnie's eyes.

"I was only angry that I knew all along why you left, but I didn't know how to get through my own mind to it." She met his eyes directly, telling him that she loved him more than she had an hour ago, more than half an hour ago, and he told her with his eyes that he loved her more as well.

Without knowing how they had gotten there, Bonnie and Damon were sitting on her couch kissing as if the world was going to end that very day. Bonnie knew he had known he loved her for years, and wondered why he hadn't come forth sooner. The thoughts close to the surface of his mind told Bonnie that he had wrestled with the idea, not wanting to interrupt her getting a degree in psychology, yet every day fighting with the desire to come to her in her dorm room at the college. Bonnie knew what Damon saw in her mind as well, he was seeing things that alternately hurt him and gave him joy. She was lost in the sensuality of Damon's tender touch when he came across the strong blocks she had put up against the feared memory of Matt.

Though Damon barely brushed the barriers, much like the ones that he had probably found in Monika's and Amy's minds, Bonnie's thoughts went blank in fear of what he might discover.

"You know I can get through those by asking what little of your blood that remains in my veins about the details of what happened, don't you?" She nodded, hoping he would not resort to that. If Matt was going to be killed, Bonnie wanted him to be killed for the right reason.

But through the years she had sometimes entertained the idea of tracking Matt through a forest with a pack of ghostly hounds summoned by an intricate druid spell. Bonnie had used the same spell to find Tyler when he had started attacking humans in the forest around Fell's Church. The beefy boy she had once known had been cowering in the hollow of a tree; shouting that if Bonnie came any closer he would kill her the way Klaus had killed Vickie.

_That_ had gotten Bonnie angry, for two reasons, the first being that Vickie had never deserved the fate she drew from the deck of Life, and the latter because when Vickie's name had fought its way through Bonnie's sub-consciousness she had experienced a fierce protective force steal over her. Tyler was still human on the outside, but the feel of an animal mind inside the body gave away what he was. The silver bullet that Stefan had made for her killed Tyler instantly. He had been a being, and creator, of death too long, so his body responded like a vampire's would have to sunlight.

Dimly she felt Damon's surprise at the bloodthirsty act that presented itself in her mind, but she was too busy savoring the imagined death of someone who had betrayed her.

_So what did he do to you Bonnie? What did Matt do to make you hate him so?_ Damon's voice in her mind was soft, as it always was, but it let Bonnie know that if she did not tell him soon he wouldn't bother to find out what had happened and kill Matt. Bonnie took a trembling breath, readying herself for Damon's reaction. She opened her mouth, but she never got to the first word.

* * *

It was Caroline, with her unnatural sense of when Bonnie was about to do something stupid, who averted Matt's death. _How could she do that to me? I just want something in return for what_ _Matt took from me_. The thoughts bitterly asserted themselves in her mind as she walked to the door.

Caroline had not brought Matt, as she had promised. Damon could smell the foul reek of mortal hate, thought it was not coming from the movie star standing before him. Matt had been in a rage when Caroline had left him in Seattle. Damon almost wished that the arrogant woman standing here _had_ come with Matt, because then he could learn of a good reason to murder the football player.

"Caroline!" _She's putting on an act for the actress_, Damon was amused. "You know Damon don't you? Well, I know, you never really talked to him, but you still know who he is. Damon this is Caroline, the girl—"

"—From Fell's Church who tried to get back at Elena and then repented. I had a hand in that little melodrama. I have thankfully gotten over that stage of blond, blue eyed saints." Then he added to Bonnie, _I have decided that redheads are much easier to get along with._ To which Bonnie responded, _Oh really? _Caroline was laughing and starting to speak when Damon and Bonnie had finished their nonverbal communication.

"Stefan was so angry when I told him what Matt was planning to do before I showed up; he said that Matt was a self-absorbed jerk. It was the memory speaking right then Bonnie, it shows through sometimes when I use my Power on Stefan or Elena." Damon looked quizzically between Bonnie and the newly arrived movie star. Caroline returned the neutral mask on his face with one of unimaginable distance.

"I have a small bit of Power in me because of the stressful way Klaus was taking my blood. I never knew what to expect, the first time there was almost no pain, so the second time I didn't fight until—"

"One word of advice, never fight unless you want to tear your own throat open." Damon interrupted her suddenly. The thought that struck Bonnie as she looked at his mind was of being lost in a grey fog and terrible pain that to fight against gave more pain. Caroline glared at him, annoyed, and continued.

"I figured out things fairly quickly after that. Still I didn't want him to have my blood, so it hurt. After everything was over Bonnie thought she saw the bluish white of Klaus hanging around me. And of course, when Bonnie is suspicious, she is right. So I am some sort of new line of Power, extremely weak, but still new." Caroline gave Damon the impression that she wouldn't have believed what Bonnie had told her years ago if she had not bore the scars from that surreal time in her life.

"So you are a truth finder, the first one on this earth to be created in nearly ten thousand years. Wonderful. Bonnie, who else has effects from what we managed to do a decade ago?" Damon would believe anything could have happened if such a dud as Caroline could absorb Power from a vampire. _Hell, I would believe it if Klaus came back and supported Girl Scouts right now_. Damon nearly laughed as he thought of Klaus dressed as a Girl Scout leader. He had obviously let Bonnie see something of his thoughts because she gave him a tilted smile out of the corner of her mouth.

"Well, Matt developed a…a tendency, and Tyler became a real killer, um, no one else seemed to get any weird stuff besides Elena, Caroline, and I."

Caroline nodded, agreeing. Again the vision of Klaus in a large green vest bloomed in the forefront of Damon's mind.

"Okay, so what are you doing here Caroline?" Damon tore his attention from Bonnie's soft neck to the woman who had made someone of herself in less than ten years. Caroline had caught the origin of Damon's gaze and an almost unnoticeable tremor shot through her.

If Damon had not been under Bonnie's spell, he would have told Caroline that if she didn't like what he was, she should go join with Matt. But that would hurt Bonnie, because Caroline was the only other human to be immediately effected by Klaus, the only human who could sympathize with Bonnie. Damon could not bring himself to hurt Bonnie more than everyone else seemingly already had.

"Stefan said to make sure Matt did not kill himself, and to go and make sure Bonnie was okay. I have found that Bonnie is quite okay, so unless you want to chat, which I don't have time for, I will be going." Damon liked the way Caroline had acquired a 'no nonsense' air about her. He didn't particularly like the haughtiness, but the woman was a movie star who had sued off hordes paparazzi, she deserved her personality.

"Can you drop by in a few days? If you got an invitation there is a dressmaker in Salem who specializes in the time period." Bonnie obviously wanted Caroline to stay, Caroline was making Bonnie feel safe right now, as if Caroline's presence made Bonnie invincible. Caroline was shaking her auburn head, a definite no, but then she looked up.

"Maybe in a few days, but Bonnie, how did you know I got an invitation to that party?"

"I guessed that if everyone else was going to get an invitation, why not invite a movie star to glam the whole damn thing up?" Bonnie laughed and then stepped forward to hug the taller woman.

"See you in a little while Bonnie." And then Caroline was gone.

* * *

The bath was searing, just the way Bonnie wanted it. She felt Damon return from hunting in Salem. She had begged him to stay but he had refused saying that he had nothing she wanted in return for her blood. Bonnie had almost done something rash, to say she didn't give a damn about the consequences of taking Damon's blood, before he had heatedly said not to tempt him like that.

Reluctantly dragging herself out to see Damon, Bonnie winced at the sight of her own back in the mirror. Damon couldn't see that, he would kill Matt merely out of his emotional reaction, and then his mind would start into the problem and the solution.

The Power required for the simple covering spell seemed more of a drain than it should have been, before now she had barely noticed it, which was an indication of how powerful she was getting. _It's because of last night_, Bonnie reminded herself. _Drink your poison when it is given to you is what Grandma says to me all the time, I never believed in it until today_. After the spell was completely finished, Bonnie wrapped a giant towel around her shoulders effectively covering the newly laid Power. Damon met her halfway to her bedroom.

"Bonnie, you are going to tell me what Matt did to you right now. If you don't want to give me details that's fine, but I need to know why you got a restraining order against Matt Honeycutt. You were engaged to him and suddenly you hate his guts. Why is he asking this, you're thinking, I will tell you now; it is because the mortal I fed off of knew what happened, but there was a block in his mind as to _what_." Damon was making an effort not to shake Bonnie, to rattle the truth that only Caroline consciously knew out of Bonnie. Damon realized he held her shoulders tightly so she could not escape, and he instantly let his grip slacken.

"You'll kill him if I tell you the least little bit of it!" This was not the way Bonnie wanted to tell Damon, if she ever did. She didn't want to be clothed in a damp towel with the concealment of Power still fresh on her back if it happened at all.

"Alright, I will tell you about my death, and of how Katherine changed me, just tell me why you fantasize the way I do about my brother sometimes." He was caught in the heat of passionately wanting to know what the rest of the world did not, but he softened the grip on her shoulders further.

She pulled away from him, making Damon think that he had hurt her. The realization of this made him take half a step forward, only to stop. Bonnie was turning and letting the towel slip down her back, revealing a solid and bright blanket of her Power sheathing it. Then the Power faded, going back to Bonnie's blood, back to its source. What had lain hidden beneath the Power was a heartbreaking sight.

"Oh, Bonnie…" He took a whole stride to her, raising his hands level to, but not touching, the angry scars on the white skin. It was dark in the hallway, but Damon's eyes easily picked out scars that formed words, sometimes whole sentences, carved into Bonnie's flesh. Some seemed childish, 'Vampire lover,' others were simply mean, 'bitchy prude,' but to have had them cut into…it took only a moment to realize what had caused this. Matt had to die, _soon_. He didn't care if Matt was the son of God; he was going to kill Matt for this…abomination.

"Do you want to hear the story behind them before you rush off?" Bonnie's tone was almost happy, as if she thought Matt's coming death the nicest thing in the world.

"Yes." Damon tore his eyes from the supple skin that was riddled with smooth scars, half wondering why he had not noticed them before.

She led Damon into her room, and put on her green silk robe, taking deep breaths so that she retained a shadow of calm. After she had slowed her madly beating heart, and regained control of her thoughts, Bonnie sat on the bed.

"Should I start from the beginning of this," she gestured to her back, "Or should I start when he proposed to me?" Damon almost wanted to start the story in the middle, where he wouldn't have to feel the intense jealousy of Matt pulling himself together enough to ask Bonnie such an important question.

"Every story has its own beginning does it not?" He sat down on the bed beside her, putting his arm around her quaking shoulders. He did not want to relive the beginning of her story, but he might miss some detail that would magnify itself in the account if he skipped to the part he wanted.

"I will pass over to after he proposed, for you. Amy had to meet him, that's the custom. She approved my marrying him, so I moved in with him in Seattle. Things were going good for a while, then he started going to the parties. Not the normal college frat parties, but ones where there was serious sex and drugs, more than what should have been allowed to happen in such a prestigious college. I stopped going with him after the first one." Damon moved his other hand to hold her shaking one.

"He took it in good grace, like anybody would think Matt would, but he got rowdier and rowdier after these. He didn't do the drugs; he could get kicked off the team for failing even one drug test. But in the off season, in spring, near the finals, he started drinking. Not a lot in the beginning, but afterwards he insulted his professors, made rude jokes about Stefan and Elena, all this disgusting stuff.

"One night his coach almost caught him on his way back to the house we had rented, so I sat him down and told him I would break it off, I swore I would, if he continued like he was. Matt sobered up for awhile after that, he was going back to the Matt I knew in high school, he even started getting better at controlling his temper. One night in June he came back to the apartment dead drunk…well no, he was the past-any-pain-whatsoever drunk.

"He wanted to have sex with me; I said no, I didn't want to sleep with him when he was drunk. He got really angry, started throwing things around the room, yelling at me. I was stupid, I know, but I said that he was the one in the wrong, not me. What I should have done was stall and then try to call the police. He grabbed me by the arm and knocked me against a wall a bunch of times. I blacked out because of the concussion, but not before hearing 'If you don't want to do it with me, go get Damon, I bet he needs it more than me'. When I woke up he was lying in a pool of his own puke. He was disgusting; I couldn't even remind myself that he was Matt Honeycutt, who had proposed to me out in the forest with autumn rearing all her colors. I tried to get up, but my back hurt so much." Bonnie sobbed at the vision that was so clearly etched in her memory that Damon himself could see it without even the slightest effort.

"I remembered that everyone had been affected by Klaus in some way, and I guessed that some of Klaus's hunger for pain got transferred to Matt. I burned a lot of Power in getting up and walking to the bathroom. When I got there I looked at my back. I covered up the cuts with 'vampire' and things on them, but I left all the other ones. I knew that I had to get to the police; I didn't care whether it was just a drunken reaction that he would regret later, because I knew that if I didn't recover fast from these wounds, to make the others think I had had a bad day topped off with a row, the women and men in the other lines would retaliate against him.

"The drive to the station was agony. I had to drive the car there, feeling my blood seeping into the seat, oh that little car that was his, I was glad that his rage had ruined his own leather seat. The women at the main office were kind to me, asking me in soft voices what had happened. I tried to tell them, letting everything spill out, yet knowing I had not yet gotten the point across, and then I lost consciousness because of shock coupled with blood loss, or so they told me later.

"When I recovered consciousness, one of them was there in the hospital, sitting beside my bed. She smiled and nodded over to the other side of my bed. Caroline was there. It was so nice to talk to her, just to be able to talk, for one thing. Then the police officer left, telling the nurses that Caroline Forbes wanted to be alone with me. They left us alone.

"She is a truth finder, I knew I couldn't lie to her, but I damn well tried to. She helped me put together what I wanted for the restraining order. Caroline was in law school as well as being a movie star. So when the judge was reading the sentence for Matt, I slipped into his mind and hand and wrote what the verdict was. If someone looks at that paper it will seem pretty strange to them, all sorts of hair brained things you barely see in the law books.

"And you know what Damon?" Bonnie looked up at him through her wet hair, but he didn't know what to say to her. Seeing this, Bonnie continued, "I would rather walk up Mount Hood barefoot and in shorts than face Matt." Her shoulders were trembling again, showing just how much this story had cost her to retell.

"It's alright Bonnie, it will never happen again, I will never, never, never, never let it happen again." Damon wrapped Bonnie into his arms, purposely warming the air around them to comfort her.

"You said you would tell me about your death Damon, so tell me, and tell me right now while you can't get away." He smiled a little at the tone of her voice, and almost regretted his words earlier.

"So I am off the hook for telling you how Katherine changed me?" Bonnie shook her head, saying with the little shake that he was going to tell her about some of the most painful moments of his long life.

"Alright, but it might break your heart." And then he plunged into his story. The one story not another living soul had ever asked to know.

"The days I spent in my room, those last days of my life. I kept the windows open, even though it was a cold summer, and the servants pretty much ignored my actions. After a few days they even stopped closing them at night, as if to say that if the Master's son died of fever, they would just say that he refused to close out the diseases. What did I do? I read, Bonnie, I read the words of Aristotle, Homer, and Plato. All these things that were so prized by my people, so worshipped, words that my own father worshipped." Damon looked down into her face, searching for some sign of dismissal at what he had said. There was none. So he continued, but this time about his father, of whom he spoke with reverence.

"My father, the great man with great dreams and the great wealth to make them come true to his wild imagination, yes he had dreams for me as well, but I had inherited his resolve, so I rebelled. Such a well taught man, my father was, who studied with John Argyropoulos until that man's death two years before I was born in the villa in the country. Sorry Bonnie, I didn't mean to wander." Damon talked more of how he hadn't spoken to his brother for the last week of their mortal lives, how the servants regarded him as Damon the Mad. Finally, satisfied that Bonnie knew of how things were in his broken home before he was changed, he broke into the story of what was the beginning of his extensive life.

"Since Katherine had not appeared at dinner, I simply concluded she was going to choose Stefan over me. Whenever Katherine missed dinner, Stefan missed dinner, and they were usually to be found together in the gardens, and so it was that evening. As soon as was reasonable to my father I excused myself from the table, my very own Last Supper, my cousins and my friends mixed together to share my last useful mortal food. I returned to my bedroom, and listlessly looked for something to do for the time being, for I had read all I could take and also all that there was to be had short of the University's library. I decided to shave, not because I desperately needed it, but because I was thinking that I might as well look nice when I lost Katherine to my hated brother and rival.

"So there I was in front of a mirror, contemplating what spiteful thing I could say to Stefan the next evening. I didn't see her come into the main chamber from my bedroom, but I felt her. I don't exactly know why I could feel certain people before I knew that they were there, but it was the same with Katherine. I was careful, not letting her know that I knew that she was there. I was proud that I did not cut myself in my excitement. As I put down the razor, my hand shook and she reached around my arm to take it from me.

"'Come Damon.' That was all she said as I turned around to face her. She was wearing a shift, an old kind of nightgown, and over this she had a long dark red cloak. I was still dressed, and my stylishly high collar hid the part of my throat she would obviously need. She took my hand and led me to my bed. I sat down obediently and she joined me. Katherine tilted my head back as I asked her how she had gotten in. She smiled and said 'the window'. I smiled at her and watched as she bent forward to my neck. It hurt for a moment, and then all I felt was joy, joy that I had never experienced before in my life. I put my hand in her hair, holding her to my throat.

"The strength that I had felt only an hour before drained away from me, I had trouble keeping my eyes open. Soon I didn't have the strength to keep them open at all and I began to have trouble breathing. And then Katherine drew back from me. She got the knife from beneath my bed and cut herself. At least I think that is what she did, I couldn't open my eyes." Damon looked at Bonnie, who was wide eyed at the graphic story. He continued in his account.

"I had lost so much blood that I could barely breathe, I was already dying, so Katherine lifted me to the wound. I blacked out fairly quickly but when I awoke I was laid on the bed with a pillow under my head. Katherine appeared beside me with a goblet in one hand; in the other she held a candle. A faint glow on her cheeks showed that the blood I had given her was doing her well. The goblet she gave to me and she turned to set the candle close by.

"The cup was filled with blood, I don't know whose it was, but my body practically absorbed it. Katherine smoothed her hand over my cheek, smiling. 'I have to go, I need my rest. I love you Damon, and I know you love me. Goodnight.' And then she kissed me and left." Damon knew now that Katherine had also fancied Stefan, but she had never loved either of them, and the memories still hurt him.

"Oh I'm so sorry Damon." Bonnie had lifted the veil of damp red hair and looked at him with sorrow. She knew most of the story afterwards. Stefan and Damon had given Katherine their ultimatum and she had faked her own death. _What a tragic story for Damon to have had to liv_e, Bonnie thought to herself as she hugged him.

"Don't be Bonnie; I am this way because I thought that I loved a child. Which is really what Katherine was if you look at how she handled the situation. Instead of saying for Stefan or I to leave her be, she continued fondly thinking that two brothers who weren't the best of friends would get along with each other purely for her sake.

"She was fourteen when Klaus changed her, she told me that during one of our walks. Tell me Bonnie, how did you act at that age? When I was fourteen, I imagined that I was older, old enough to make adult decisions. I wasn't, and Katherine's mind was stunted as well as her life because of who changed her. I would never have grown mentally if Klaus himself had changed me, but Katherine beat him to the chase." Bonnie turned white at the implications of what he had said. As Damon looked at her, his gaze was frighteningly calm.

"And now you want to know the rest of my story? You do, don't tell me that you don't want to know. Two days later I lost my last tie to life, and heaven, by the hate I had let fester in my mind for sixteen years. Stefan has told you all he remembers from that day, I know he has, but he didn't hold onto consciousness long enough to know the rest of what happened." Damon told Bonnie about the day that was his last and of the brief camaraderie he had felt with Stefan as they searched for Katherine in the silence of the now ancient garden that still grew on the old land.

"…so we marched into the house, arguing fiercely. We did this often enough that the servants who saw us left us to ourselves. Those idiots left Damon the Mad and Stefan the Saint to their own devices! I shouted that Stefan had not deserved Katherine any more than he deserved to be _my_ mother's son. He answered angrily, saying to meet him in the courtyard as fast as hell could get me there. I had often said before that if Stefan wanted to settle the differences between us that he should ask me to meet him in the courtyard and I would have my sword. My room was closer to that position in the house than his, and I made a point of knowing where my weapons were, unlike my scholarly brother Stefan.

"The painting of my family that hung on the wall attracted my attention as I hefted the steel, getting its balance in my hand. My mother's eyes from her portrait glittered at me, reminding me of her words as she lay dying, 'Try not to hate him too much Damon'. I shouted at the picture that I had tried and I had failed so now I was correcting a long unattended mistake.

"I had fed well in the night and I was still strong from the blood. I waited for perhaps a minute before Stefan appeared, holding his own sword in a guarding stance. I called to him, 'So you found it Brother, and it did not take half the day!' and then he attacked me. He attacked me and all I had done was insult him so far. I could sense with my growing mind that he didn't know anything except that he had to kill me, which made me curious in my angered state. Somewhere in my head at that time, someone was thinking, '_How can I induce reactions such as this? I won't always have a sixteen-year old vendetta to help me'_.

"We fought for a long time it seemed, for whenever I tried to get past Stefan's guard he blocked me. But I returned blow for blow, making Stefan call on his energies before I really had to. Realizing that someone, namely me, needed to end it, I called on some reserve of strength and moved my blade faster than Stefan had expected. The surprise on his face told me that he had thought I wouldn't have had the nerve to kill him.

"I bent down to watch my brother die, because I hadn't yet seen someone die such a painful death as his, I had only seen my mother's death when I was six. I thought to myself, _Well at least he will be buried in the crypt with Mother_. But then Stefan did something unexpected and out of character, I felt hate surge up in his mind and then he stabbed me. It hurt, Bonnie, it hurt more than I had thought a wound like it would hurt. I'd been stabbed before, in the shoulder, and I knew of the pain cold steel can bring. In agony, I sank to my knees beside my dying brother.

"But Stefan was weak from fighting his nature and from the fatal wound I had inflicted, so he didn't have the strength to take his weapon out of my chest cleanly as I had done for him. That is where the jaggedness of the scar comes from. But the sword had one more trick in it, as it sliced open my lung.

"My breathing became shallow as I felt my brother's life leave his body. Stefan was still there, I could feel him, but the shell was dead. I coughed, and tasted blood in my mouth. I distantly heard the screams of the people who had been prudent and not stayed for the row between the Salvatore brothers, the mad one and the saint. I coughed again and this time as well as tasting blood in my mouth I saw it on the hand I raised to wipe my lips. I didn't feel any fear of my impending death not even any regret. I also contemplated what death would actually be like, since what I had experienced with Katherine had hardly been death.

"My father was the first one to reach us. It took him a moment to know that Stefan's stillness meant he was dead, and then he gathered me up in his arms. I had never seen my father break down and cry like he did then, not when I had failed at everything he tried to force on me, not when his wife died, not ever. The poor man repeated that he was so sorry many times, '_Mi dispiace Damon_', to which I coughed up more blood, but this time I felt like I should have drawn in more air than I did. And then as my vision became dotted with specks of red and black he asked me why, why had I killed my own brother. I told him, '_A cuasa di Katherine Papa_' because of Katherine.

"Father looked at me, pity and understanding in his eyes, as blood dribbled out of my mouth from the deadly injury. I tried to smile for him, to put on the strong façade that I normally had, and he smoothed my hair out of my face, singing in a cracked voice the lullaby he and my mother had often sung together. It was my favorite as a young boy. It was about ageless love for one's child. During the second verse I closed my eyes, my strength departing faster by the moment, and slipped away from the world of the living."

Bonnie noticed Damon had grown very still during the last part of his story, but he was not left weak by it like Stefan had been after he told Bonnie and everyone else this history. Bonnie remembered wishing for Damon's side of this tale, since he was the co-star in it. She turned away from this going over of personal memories and looked at their clasped hands, noticing how pale she had become in the eleven or so years since she had lost him. She lifted her hand, still clinging to his, and kissed the back of his left hand. Damon's story was sad in the fact that Damon and his father had been united at last because Damon had been dying. Bonnie also turned over in her head the facts of Katherine's part in the recount.

"You have witch blood, Damon. If Elias is telling the truth about your mother being his daughter, then she would be a half blood, and she would pass on some Power to you and Stefan. I don't want to figure all the amounts right now. Your Power is more like mine than that of a witch because you let the physical nature of it die and fed the telepathic parts of it, but that explains you feeling people before you saw them." Damon nodded, but he was still too silent for Bonnie's liking. She looked up from the uninteresting piece of flooring to his face. No emotions crossed his roman features, so mercifully preserved from the common faces of the Germanic invaders of his ancient Italy. She wanted to see his eyes spark, the eyes that held no pupils but were dedicated to eternal night. She pondered how to do this for a moment.

Damon started moving at the same time she did.

The first kiss was timid, as if neither knew what they wanted to do. The next one made Bonnie shiver from the feelings that roared inside of her which were answered by Damon. Happiness, love, and joy, all were vying for prominence in both of them, along with a multitude of others. Bonnie felt Damon's gentle touch on her bare shoulder, having pushed the robe off of its perch. She instantly pulled back and looked at him, reading the thoughts that he didn't bother to control. Bonnie smiled at him and he kissed her again.

* * *

Meredith woke up to a bright light in her face. It was the light that came on with an open door. She looked around at her children, seeing that Daniela was whispering along to her music and James was snoring.

"You fell asleep before we hit the freeway and he conked out about two hours later. Daniela and I had a long discussion of the pros and cons of caffeine to the body. I won, because I had hard evidence with me, my coffee and you."

"W-w-why me, Alaric?" Meredith fought a losing battle with a yawn.

"Because you haven't had coffee today, so you fell asleep. I nearly lost ground on that one; Daniela had the point in her favor that you are addicted to caffeine. Are you ready to get through this damned security?" Meredith yawned and nodded at the same time, and reached back to James.

The security took much less time than Alaric had expected and the Saltzman family was left to find entertainment in the huge airport. They wandered in the shops, picking up the odd thing to suggest as a gift for Bonnie or, Daniela giggled, for Damon. Damon was Daniela's hero; he embodied the kind of brother she had wanted. When Stefan had asked her if she wanted a brother who tried to kill her, her only reply was "Hell yeah!" This shocked all within hearing besides Stefan who nodded, saying "So would I."

"So, should you call Bonnie? I mean it's only what, ten there?" Alaric, as always, wanted to cut a step. Meredith murmured back to him, barely audible. He nodded, "Well, according to Caroline and Monika they have been working up to it for awhile. If I could get Monika to stand still for half a moment to ask that woman about her Power I would know that much more about Bonnie's culture. Ah well, one cannot have all one wishes, but I have tried." He settled back into the ancient airport chair.

James had nodded off soon after they had gotten through to their gate. Daniela had bought a magazine and was going through it carefully blotting out all the models she disliked. Meredith had brought a book to read. It was written by a teenager a few years ago and Meredith had been meaning to read it since the book had come out.

"You know, you could learn ever so much about Bonnie's culture if you read the books that people write about vampires and such," she said, gesturing to the volume in her hand. "Bonnie says that almost none of it is hard truth about the lines and things, but if you want behavior, the average vampire story author has it to a 'T'."

"But those are packed with the trashy romance that usually comes with it! I can't take that stuff Meredith, I really can't take it to get through to the information I need." He became silent as Meredith shook her head mutely. "What?"

"This one isn't a romance so far, it isn't even the 'average-girl-gets-picked-up-by-gorgeous-guy' type of book. So when I'm done, you can read it." Alaric nodded absently as Daniela joined in on the conversation.

Meredith returned to the book as her husband and daughter began to debate the facts and myths of vampires. She knew that her connection with Bonnie attracted the attention of both vampires and witches, but there was no way around it, as Bonnie had told them frankly when she had had her grandmother place wards around the old house. Shortly thereafter someone had come to the house and left a letter for Meredith on the door. The letter said that Eythera was protecting them; they should not worry about the 'aberrations'. She had kept the letter to show to Bonnie. Thinking about the note, Meredith pulled it out of her purse to look at the parchment.

"Dear Mrs. Saltzman,

You have attracted the attention of long hunted vampires. My immortal mother has sent me on this mission to search out and kill the following vampires: Aurelia Grené of Sweden, Juan Suarez of Bolivia, and Andrew Mulholland of Scotland. These aberrations have been seen near your home more than once. Eythera is aware of your danger and has elected to protect you. Do not try to find me or my companions; it endangers both you and us. These vampires are vicious in their ways and neither you nor your family is safe.

If you insist on finding us, follow the moonlit trail through the forest on the solstice. Otherwise stay as far from the forest as you conceivably can.

Lola Eythera"

Meredith couldn't make any sense of it, and she didn't dare to show it to Alaric, he would make it into a bigger problem than there seemed to be. She also knew that if Alaric read the directions to the witch's hideout, he wouldn't wait for the solstice to find their protectors. It was his recklessness that had drawn her to him; it was his unwavering, solid will that kept her with him. Years ago he had told her, as she began to falter in college, that if she did not keep at it, she would never reach her goal. Meredith had graduated with high honors three years later. Alaric had given her the strength to do it, and Meredith knew that even she couldn't have done it without him.

"Mom, do you think vampires are more likely to be right under our noses than fifty years ago?" Daniela had turned to her mother for more proof of her point. For a moment Meredith wished that God had blessed Daniela with the mind of a six year old instead of a mini-Alaric.

"Yes Daniela, in the sixties young people liked tans and the beach. Today they still like the two, yet the punk culture is more into pale skin and black clothing. You know that Stefan said that vampires try to blend in, but their nature makes them naturally nocturnal. If it is easier to live at night, and you don't want to attract attention to yourself at late hours, what would you wear?"

"Dark clothing, so vampires _are_ more likely to be all around us than fifty years ago. Hah! I beat you Dad, I have more proof than you do." Alaric nodded, murmuring that yes, Daniela had won their debate.

"Alaric, I'm going to see when our plane is due, will you watch the kids?" Meredith disliked talk of vampires, it made her uneasy. She didn't know why, it just unsettled something deep in her consciousness, something best left dormant. Alaric nodded, looking over to James who was snoring lightly.

Meredith felt better as she searched the departures for their flight. "7743, Continental, hmm, where are you?" The people around her seemed bent on squeezing together and preventing her view of the screens. Meredith lost a little bit of her temper and fought to the front of the wall. "Damn! It's here!"

"Excuse me, Ms. Sulez?" The voice behind her sounded timid. Meredith turned and saw a woman with dark brown hair and grey eyes. The stranger smiled, and then spoke again, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were married Mrs. Saltzman."

"Who are you? How do you know my name?" Meredith lost her cool. This person was making the earlier unease screech with warning inside of her. Vampire. This was the only thing that Meredith had placed with this feeling; she felt it every time she saw Stefan, and every time one of her family members mentioned vampires.

The woman before her smiled, "I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Minea Silver." Meredith nodded dumbly; she felt that if she spoke she would throw up.

"Excuse me, but you look a little…squeamish…Oh, I see." Meredith found herself being steered back to her husband and children. Finally she managed to choke out, "You see what?"

"How about you sit down first before I tell you, alright?" The reply was given in a soothing tone, as if Meredith was in shock. Meredith sat down next to Alaric, who had a truly comical look engraved on his features.

"Who's she?" Meredith almost smiled that it was Daniela who found her voice before even her father.

"Your hero's grandmother, little one. Now Meredith, I have just diagnosed you with a truly useful disease. You sense the dark, sucking Power of the creatures of the night, and it is incurable, or so all my evidence says. Damon's mother had it, and I, her mother, have yet to find something to cure her of it."

The other members of Meredith's family were stunned at this obviously insane woman Meredith had brought to them. Meredith was not in the least perturbed; she liked to have answers for things, which was why she enjoyed talking to Bonnie and her grandmother. Amy and Bonnie understood a great deal more than Alaric and Elena of the world that supposedly didn't exist. If this vampire was offering a long needed explanation, then Meredith would take it.

"So I got a Power transfer like Caroline."

"Yes, that is my belief. I do not know what triggered Maria's reaction, but I think it was when Stefan was born and we visited her. When did you be—Oh I am sorry you three, I am Minea Silver. The man that dropped off your invitation is my son." Minea smiled, offering her hand to Alaric. Meredith scanned his face as he took Minea's hand, and decided to save the vampire before Alaric could begin his questioning.

"So I am betting that we will see you in Salem while we are visiting Bonnie. Our flight is boarding now. I'm sorry that we have to cut you off so suddenly, I am not trying to be rude, it's the airline that is ruining this for us." Minea smiled at Meredith, she had probably known what was coming from Alaric. Meredith smiled back, gathering up her belongings and family.

On the plane, six minutes later, Meredith settled into the uncomfortable seat and got out her book. Daniela and Alaric were discussing how old Minea would have had to be if she was Damon and Stefan's grandmother.

"Well she didn't look like a grandmother to _me_." This was the last thing Meredith consciously absorbed as she got into the plot of the book.

* * *

Bonnie looked from the ceiling to Damon's face, hoping he was really sleeping as deeply as she thought. Drawing a tremulous breath she looked at her abdomen, almost crying as she learned the gender of the child.

A boy, just like the night before, why did these things have to happen to her? Bonnie knew that her body would act as if she had not conceived at all, and let the baby boy go. But Bonnie didn't want that to happen, so as she had the night before, she asked the child's name, and drew him into her mind to be born at another time, a time when she was a witch and able to have male children.

_What is your name little one?_

_My name? My name is Isaac, like in the Bible. Who are you? _

_ I am…Bonnie. I am going to take you to your brother now Isaac. His name is Joseph; he's in the Bible too. _

_ Okay Bonnie. My mom is named Bonnie, did you know that? _

_ Yes._ Bonnie was greeted by visions of smiles and bright summer days that looked a lot like those of Oregon, but were faintly foreign.

Bonnie searched for the path in her mind to the secluded little portion that she had reserved for Joseph, while she grasped the spiritual bond of mother and son to lead Isaac to this haven against her own magic. A thought of the night before struck her again, and it was that the unborn child had done nothing wrong and if she had the power to save him she should.

_Joseph, I have someone for you to play with, he is your brother. _

Bonnie, to any one observing her, appeared to be staring soulfully at Damon, but the gaze was unseeing of him as she saw two little boys of eight or nine approach each other with equally suspicious stances.

_What is his name Mother? _

_ My name is Isaac, are you Joseph?_

To Bonnie's eyes the boys leaned close to one another, examining every perfection, every shared characteristic, seemingly every thing that differed from what each expected. Two identical, slightly unnerving smiles flashed to Bonnie as the two children fled to play in an apparently eternal sunshine.

Blinking to clear her eyes of tears, Bonnie hugged herself to Damon. _He has done nothing wrong either, he simply loves me_. The thought repeated itself numerous times as Bonnie's mind drifted around in the dark.

Damon's arms moved around her, holding her tightly. Bonnie looked up at him, thinking how outraged everyone would be that she was sleeping with him.

"What will they say about us?" Bonnie smiled at him, and Damon smiled back to her.

"They will say that you barely know me and that you are a fool. They will also say that I am taking advantage of you, in my own special way. What are you going to do about it?" For a moment Bonnie could not answer because of the searing kiss that followed his question.

"I am going to tell them that you are obviously okay because if you weren't, you'd be dead."

"How right you are. But what about the petty justice givers of the families that are not designated to do anything so destructive? What about the Soras, the Ashen, the Frynjar, Old Salem, and never forget the powerful ones of Eythera with their armies of Shadre and Masinku? How will you convince them that we're simply in love?"

"I will convince them or they will forget that they are witches or psychics or both. They all know my strong will and know how to fight it, but since they never take me seriously, they are easy to control, and you forgot to mention the Avian. Oh you're so warm now, Damon, did you know that?" Bonnie was barely able to keep her eyelids open, but she struggled on in her half sleeping state. "I'm so glad you came back, life got boring when I realized I missed startling smiles and a sharp wit. I knew what the others would say about these thoughts, that I should forget you and let you be simply in my memory." Bonnie wriggled closer to him before she continued, though she was whispering now.

"What really made me get off the floor in Seattle was the memory of you. I remembered how even though I struggled against you for a little while, outside of Vickie's, I don't remember any pain whatsoever. I kept thinking as I used Power in the place of blood to work my muscles that 'Damon would have never done this to me. If he really wanted to inflict so much pain he would have used his words, not his hands'. And so I lived through that night, and I survived having less than a third of my own blood in me. The doctors didn't know this, because my strength in Power increased as I healed and my magic is blood red, but really you saved me."

Damon was smiling, just one corner of his mouth, which made Bonnie giggle.

"What?"

"You did that in the barn, after Meredith said that Stefan shouldn't have brought you. But he didn't, did he? You brought yourself under a pretense of help." Bonnie said this with no malice, even though Damon really had not been in Fell's Church to help them with Klaus.

"Yes, I was slightly amazed at how well the others bought into it, and I was puzzled as to why Matt did not speak up then and there. But how was I to know that he didn't accept your Powers for what they were? I could only read that he was affectionate towards you, but that you couldn't decide between the immortal with no morals, or the rash human that believed in only what he saw with his eyes and could hit with his hands." Bonnie kissed his cheek, but this did not stem his story. "He didn't even believe that your spell had worked until he saw Stefan and I appear, the men who had, in Matt's mind, killed Elena and were speeding you and your friends towards death or the undead."

Bonnie felt the slight anger that accompanied the mention of Matt's thoughts when it came to her abilities, because he had never truly believed in them. He had even tried to make Bonnie give up her Powers, which she could not do because the one who had bound them to her had been a ghost and was now in heaven or hell, whichever one Honoria belonged in. Bonnie could never give up her Powers; someone would have to tear her heart out before she lost them.

She was drifting again, almost sleeping yet unable to lose consciousness just yet, when she heard Damon's whisper: "You said you wanted a few decades without me, didn't you? I gave you one, does it seem like it was long enough?"

"Yes Damon. An hour was long enough." She felt his smile by the way little muscles in his cheek moved.

* * *

Review?

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	6. Chapter 6

Well, this is the start of a story which I'll update every week, on sunday mornings. It has 94 pages completed on the word processor. **I don't own Bonnie or Damon, but I do love the idea that they would get together.** I'm sorry that this doesn't even begin to measure up to the longest completed D/B fic on here, Bloodlust. I have read that...and it is the best. Sticks to everything, everyone is normal, no OOC, and Damon gets the redhead. I am happy with that.

This story is set 10 (or something) years after all that (books, not bloodlust) happened. I started writing it about 4 years ago...so it is...ya get it.

And like I said, if you want a good, complete, in-character fanfiction, go read "Bloodlust" because it is awesome.

* * *

"Mistress Crommin?" The voice was frightened. _As it should be_, Amy thought darkly to herself. 

"Oh you were resting! I'm so sorry Mistress, I did not know." _Who is this girl? Looks like Bonnie's sister Mary; yes this one's name is…Laurin. Yes, that sounds right. _

"It is alright little one. What have you come to tell me?" Amy liked being patient with the young ones, especially because it kept her in her position of Leader longer. She did not relish the job of Leader of NaLal anymore, she hated it now, but Bonnie was vulnerable to the witches. The little American girl was weak when it came to choices of men. The girl always seemed to go for the worst of them, the vampires, or the disbelievers. Amy would not willingly pass on the title of Leader to Bonnie until the girl had taken someone into her bed. Only then could Amy resign, when Bonnie was pregnant with a woman who would carry on the line.

"Mistress, please don't give over to a vision just yet, I need to speak with you." _Ah, I have been traveling, and this poor girl has been waiting for me_. "The Watcher has been monitoring your granddaughter Bonnie, and she says she has a surprise for you." The fear was gone from the voice of the psychic standing before her.

Amy was intrigued, for the Watcher these days rarely spoke, and if she spoke at all she was direct, whether she was speaking to an underling or the Leader. April was only about the facts to be gathered from the Web, and never let the word 'surprise' pass her lips without being connected to something like "well this was a surprise."

The room in which April took her residence was sparse, populated only by a desk, chair, and bed. The rest of the room was taken up with a grand glass circle.

The circle could only be entered by the Watcher and the Leader of the line, and April Jennings, the current Watcher, was inside of it staring blankly out.

"Thank you Laurin, you may return to your rooms." Amy was ever careful to keep the murmured words of entry to only herself and April.

Turning from the closing door to the woman inside of the glass ring, Amy examined her niece for signs of jokes. Elizabethan red hair fell past the woman's hips, and her mind gave away that she was immeasurably happy at what she was staring at, color blazing beneath her freckles.

"Axes will fall on those who would use them carelessly." The simple sentence was all that opened the glass walls of the magical surveillance room and held no real meaning for Amy. Once she had tried to find it's meaning, but sifting through two thousand years of ancient languages had been exhausting and she had given up. Presently Amy stepped in beside April, but did not look at the walls as they closed around her.

"Aunt Amy, I know I sounded weird in my message, but I wanted you to be in here when you shrieked. Now you know that Bonnie's part of the web has always seemed troubled, well, not always, its been this way for ten or twelve years. Well, yesterday evening I felt disquiet from her, but that was soon gone so I paid it no attention since those things often occur near Bonnie. Well today—no this very night, I felt extreme contentment, the kind that I get from most of the women here, but I have _never_ felt it from Bonnie. So naturally I investigated and look what I've found!" April raised her hands and colors raced in the glass to show Amy what her granddaughter had been doing.

The glass darkened, as if the scene it depicted was during the night, but Bonnie's unnaturally red hair was clearly visible in the light it was presented in. Her hair was thrown out along her back and seemed to be damp from a shower or bath.

Amy cried out in joy as April showed her who was beside Bonnie. _He_ was sleeping, apparently fairly deeply, _he_ was young and beautiful, and _he_ had his arms wrapped around Bonnie protectively.

"He's perfect, my God; he's what NaLal needs, strong new life. He looks Italian, but he doesn't look like any I've seen from Monika's family. Thank God, Bonnie's finally gotten around to taking someone home!" Amy clapped her hands in joy.

"Amy there's something I have to tell you---" _Why does this girl try to interrupt this joy? Doesn't she realize the importance of this!?_ Bonnie was thirty and on the downhill side of fertility for someone of NaLal and someone would have had to be chosen soon, and Amy was not fond of that idea.

"Oh but I must not scare him away with my ranting, I will scrap the custom, wait, I've met him before! He came around here, what, six months ago? Nice boy with a good aura around him. A little too dark though for the old tastes, but in this day it is hard to find a pure human with no vampires lurking in his family tree." Amy followed April out of the glass enclosure and went to her own chamber.

"Mistress, there is something about him---" _There she goes again, thinking that she is better than Bonnie's future, blasted Watchers, give them a moment of your time and they want all of it._ Amy thought caustically.

"No April I have to plan. I am an old woman; I need my rest and a little solitude right now." She made sure that April was securely inside of the glass ring again before returning to her own study.

"I am visiting on Halloween, oh gods; Monika is going on the solstice. I could have sworn I had both reserved from her. Oh well. Now that young man, what was his name? I can't even remember! Ah I'm getting too old for this, but Bonnie has at least come to her senses on the fact that she _is_ the heiress of my title."

Amy stared into space, remembering herself watching her own oldest daughter give birth to Bonnie. At first Bonnie made no cry, as if she would not have a true love, of which Amy was immediately sad. Amy was beginning to weep at the fact that this little girl would have to take a man whom she did not love, but then Bonnie set up a wail that woke Celia from the drugs and woke Amy from her despair. Through heavy tears Amy had watched the intense psychic vision wing out of the room and into the night air. All Amy had even been able to discern was that the vision had landed between France and Italy.

"Jacques? Where are you my pet?" The tiger padded silently to Amy, nuzzling her arm. _Here Amy._

"I could see that. Did you disturb my bedding?" _No, why would I do such a thing? I haven't done that for twenty years. What are you so excited about?_

"Bonnie has fulfilled my one requirement of her. You know what it is." _Indeed I do. Do you plan to—?_

"I'm going to bed. I will have no more talk on this. Goodnight Jacques." With the fickleness of the aged, Amy wandered to her private bathroom as if she hadn't followed twenty different tangents in the last half hour.

The animal watched Amy go; thinking to itself _if you knew who Bonnie's bed partner was you would be screaming mad right now, not jumping happy. Besides, you shouldn't be jumping at your age._

* * *

"Hello ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot. I'm sorry to disturb you, but we have a small medical emergency in the rear of the plane and we request that any EMTS, paramedics, or doctors go to the back of the plane. Sorry for the disturbance." Meredith's eyes shot up from the book when she heard 'doctors'. She immediately stood up and saw that she was the only person who did. 

The attendant saw her and beckoned to a seat that really was in the _rear_ of the airplane. Meredith hurried to the seat realizing how truly empty the aircraft was.

"He…well I don't know, he just doesn't answer anything, anything at all. He seems like he's breathing normally, but how would I know?" This attendant was frantic, but she had the sense to keep her voice down.

Meredith bent down to the young man, who seemed to be in the grip of a stroke. She immediately asked for a small flashlight which, after a few minutes, was handed to her. In the downtime between request and action, she took the man's pulse, and found it normal. When she received the light, she turned it on and turned it at an angle. The attendants were watching her, _which_, as Meredith thought sarcastically_, was _ultimately_ helpful_.

When the light flicked around in front of the man's eyes and they made not even a quiver of a response, Meredith suspected the worst. Coma, it could be that, she mused, or it could be some type of seizure. No, seizures have other symptoms, so it might be a stroke induced coma.

"Did you notice anything that would indicate he wasn't okay?" the two women shook their heads.

"Miss, miss that's my uncle, I saw what happened to him, I'll tell you." She glanced up at the little boy who was staring across the aisle at the blond young man. Meredith did not see any familial traits, but she was only looking for answers.

"Go ahead kid, this guy doesn't seem to be dying so you take your time and don't leave anything out." The boy looked up at the two flight attendants, glaring. They took the hint and went elsewhere. Meredith smiled at the kid, noticing he seemed rather pale and sickly.

"Well…"

"It's alright, I've checked his breathing and his pulse, this man is not going anywhere."

"Are you so sure?" Meredith whipped around to see the man sitting forward and alert. At the same time her senses screamed in warning at the sight of him.

"Wait, don't go. We aren't here to hurt you; we just wanted to talk to you, since you were part of 'the event' twelve years ago."

"Yes, that's what we wanted to congratulate you on. What does 'congratulate' mean?" Meredith felt amused at how the boy looked at the other vampire when he asked this. The older looking vampire glanced intently at the younger looking one, which Meredith found odd but did not question.

"Who are you and how do you know who I am?" Both seemed startled that she had spoken, but she knew that they would answer her because of all the monsters in the world, the vampires were by far the most civilized. Meredith noticed that this was the second time in one day that she found herself asking vampires who they were.

"My name is Hugh, this is my nephew Cole. We know who you are from the local pack of werewolves in our town. You were bitten by one and yet you remained human. You seem to be some sort of legend among them now, though I do not know what significance it bears." Hugh paused, unnerved that a human with no supernatural endowments could have even survived such an attack. "But we came to speak with you about what happened when the spirits took care of Klaus. You are the most accessible choice at this time. The Salvatore's are hard to find…Wait, let me rephrase that, Damon is hard to find and Stefan doesn't talk to his own people. Bonnie is connected to NaLal, and no curious vampire that values his life gets near enough for her to report him. The other woman, Caroline would have Bonnie kill any vampires that get within sight. There is no one left that is able to talk about it that is fully rational." Both vampires seemed to be at a loss for words. Meredith didn't fail to notice that they left Matt out of their explanation.

She laughed, but not unkindly. "I was in shock; all I know is what they told me. The basic gist of the tale is what you have undoubtedly heard of, that when Stefan was losing, his brother Damon shows up and holds off Klaus long enough for the psychic Bonnie to call on the disturbed dead that made those woods their abode. And that is really the only thing that happened." Cole's face fell when she finished, he had obviously expected something better.

"Sorry to have bothered you miss, I was merely curious for the story from a participant in it. Cole told me that the people who told the stories were telling all that they knew, and that you wouldn't know much more. But as you saw, he was also thinking of some fanciful story of blood and gore." Meredith got up and shook Hugh's hand and made her way back to Alaric. She thought with a laugh how she had hurried her husband from one vampire to another.

"Hey, Hugh," he looked up from his conversation with Cole in acknowledgement of her, "Do you think you could spend some time with my husband. He is…curious about your people." Hugh nodded, and Meredith turned back up the aisle to tell Alaric.

* * *

Matt had sunk into a dull stupor after his outburst at Caroline for refusing to tell him why she needed to visit Bonnie. The darkness reminded him of how he had awoken to police sirens in the wee hours of the morning. Matt passed these dark hours away with his saddest memories of Bonnie. _Bonnie, isn't that slang for pretty in Scotland?_ Matt couldn't remember, nor did he care to. 

"Bonnie, my bonniest Bonnie. Oh I love you and I've lost you, what shall I do Bonnie, my bonniest Bonnie?" Matt felt like crying in his drunken state, for all the pain they both endured because of his recklessness. _No, I'm fooling myself when I say recklessness. I mean to say stupidity. I was stupid for thinking that she wouldn't notice that I was totally wasted. I am stupid to believe she will even think about coming back. But I'm not _just_ stupid in thinking that I can sway her into giving him up, I am bravely stupid. _

"You hear that Bonnie?! I'm bravely stupid, I admit it! You can come back now!" The empty home didn't answer him, even though he wished he knew of some way to make the walls into considerate advisors. Bonnie might've known.

Matt lurched to his feet, checking his watch for the time. It was 6:47, and the sun would be rising. As Matt watched he thought _now this was a night well spent, I'm still alive and the rising sun is beautiful, and now I'm going to hit the sack. _

He didn't notice the woman with plain ash blond hair who looked at him through his other living room window. She had colorless grey eyes which collected none of the shades of colors that she wore. She moved silently to the window of his bedroom, though it was on the second floor.

Still gazing into the room, she placed her hands on the panes of glass as if she were reaching out to Matt. He seemed to sense her, and began to turn to the west window. She was instantly back on the ground, smiling almost shyly.

* * *

Review? 


	7. Chapter 7

Well, this is the start of a story which I'll update every week, on sunday mornings. It has 94 pages completed on the word processor. **I don't own Bonnie or Damon, but I do love the idea that they would get together.** I'm sorry that this doesn't even begin to measure up to the longest completed D/B fic on here, Bloodlust. I have read that...and it is the best. Sticks to everything, everyone is normal, no OOC, and Damon gets the redhead. I am happy with that.

This story is set 10 (or something) years after all that (books, not bloodlust) happened. I started writing it about 4 years ago...so it is...ya get it.

And like I said, if you want a good, complete, in-character fanfiction, go read "Bloodlust" because it is awesome.

* * *

And uh...yeah.

* * *

Meredith rang the doorbell. She was still grumpy from staying up all night trying to keep Alaric from trying to dissect one of the two vampires. He had barely asked any questions about the world of vampires, but had instead asked questions about how much Power certain animals gave. He had even begun to ask about different types of humans when the flight had landed. That was when the attendants had made them go back to their seats.

Daniela was absorbing the facts that Alaric had learned. _Why can't I have a normal six year old that likes Sponge Bob?_ Meredith asked herself. James was staring dully ahead; he was literally asleep on his feet.

Meredith turned her attention to the door in front of her. She could hear activity behind it, so they had to be up. In fact, what she thought were footsteps proved to be just that as the door opened.

Bonnie stood before her, Damon looking over her shoulder. Both looked disheveled and sleepy, as though they had only just woken up.

"'Bright and early tomorrow morning.'" Damon murmured ruefully. Bonnie glanced up at him, and turned back to Meredith.

"Come in, come in! Don't stand there gawking at us." Meredith was amused that Bonnie was not in the least distressed that Damon was in her house.

"No gun this time I hope," Damon was looking at Alaric. Alaric's face colored slightly and he mumbled something under his breath. Damon laughed; he had heard the remark.

Meredith stepped into Bonnie's house, gazing around at her surroundings. The house had a faintly Scottish-gothic look to it, though why Bonnie had chosen this theme was beyond Meredith, though she had always appreciated it. She had always liked the stone fireplace in the middle of the living room wall, and she always wondered why Bonnie never lit a fire in it.

Meredith glanced around at her family, evaluating their reactions. This was crucial if she was even going to think of leaving them alone to sleep.

Alaric was agape at Damon, as was Daniela, though Daniela was far more controlled in her staring than Alaric could have ever hoped to be. James had come awake when the door opened and looked confused, _Poor kid thinks I'm Stefan._ Meredith jumped at Damon's voice in her head.

"Damon, that's not nice." Bonnie said as she closed the door behind the Saltzman family. Alaric seemed to be broken from his reverie and strode forward, extending his hand. Damon glanced down, seeming suspicious, then took Alaric's hand with his own.

"Alaric, you are a fact crazed idiot." Alaric did not seem insulted by this but instead stepped over to the couch and motioned for Damon to sit on the recliner that sat near it. Bonnie felt sorry for Damon, but sooner or later she wouldn't be here to save him from Alaric, so the sooner this questioning occurred, the sooner it would be over.

"Damon, can I go out with Meredith for awhile? If you can stand Alaric that is."

"Bonnie," Damon smiled at her, "Don't ever ask me if you can go somewhere. You _must_ live your own life, even if it includes me, but…You can't live like a woman of my Italy, waiting for someone to lead her around. The—" He switched to telepathy, _the first rule of my kind is to adapt quickly, and in this era you must have freedom to go wherever you want. Even if you were supposed to ask me if you could go somewhere, I wouldn't tolerate that degradation of our relationship._

"Thanks Damon." Meredith was gazing at them, her eyes dark with questions. "Come on Meredith, we're going to Salem!"

"Bonnie, you are in a robe, you need to get dressed." Bonnie and Damon looked each other over at Meredith's remark. It was true, Damon had on only his jeans and the shirt from yesterday and Bonnie had wrapped the robe around her shoulders when she had come fully awake.

"Yeah, I suppose so. The guest bedroom is how it always is, so get settled while we're…Dressing."

Damon had made an impossibly fast run from the guest room to Bonnie's room and back to where he had been. _Almost out of Anne Rice_, Bonnie thought to him. He smiled, and then turned to Alaric for questioning. Bonnie turned to the hall that lead to her room, and noticed that Meredith was following her.

Inside her bedroom, Bonnie started a search for clothing. She wondered what everyone would think of her now that she had Damon. Not everyone would be deliriously happy with her, she knew that for starters, and even people she trusted and respected might not respect her now. _Like Opaline, that woman is _such_ a hypocrite._ Bonnie glanced at Meredith.

"So what do you think?" Bonnie did not elaborate on her question, nor did she turn to see her friend. Meredith paused in her inventory of the room.

"About what? You and Damon? I've had a gut feeling for years that he was going to come back. You weren't the only one who noticed all the little glances he was giving you." Bonnie was staring. "And that night that he kissed you? As I fell asleep his face appeared in my head and he said 'Go to sleep, she'll be fine, it's just a game' and then I went to sleep." Meredith took a step toward Bonnie, smiling. "I knew what he tried to do as soon as I woke up. I told Stefan when we were on the phone some crap that he thought Damon was going to hurt you, but even as I spoke I realized it wasn't true."

"So you aren't really angry with me, right?" Meredith shook her head. "Let's go, I'll tell you all about it. Even _you_ can't resist my boy stories." She and Meredith laughed long and hard at that.

* * *

Meredith and her husband had rented a midsize sedan to bring themselves to Bonnie's home. Why Meredith insisted that they go in this vehicle was beyond Bonnie, but Meredith was crazed with lack of sleep, so Bonnie agreed.

"So how long has Damon been here?" Of course, she not crazed enough to forget the main subject. Bonnie sighed; she didn't want to talk about Damon now. She wasn't being selfish and keeping him to herself, as Elena had kept Stefan, she was merely not interested in endlessly discussing him. Even with this feeling, Bonnie was not a person to ignore questions being directed at her.

"Since Saturday night. That's as long as I know, though he might have been here for a long time before I knew about it." She said cautiously. Meredith didn't seem surprised, but she didn't seem particularly pleased.

"Since Saturday night? God damn, Bonnie and you're already sharing a bed?" Bonnie was struck by what Damon had said to her that her friends would say that she was a fool, but Meredith was going on. "And what about Matt? What do you think your ex will think of Damon?" She saw that Meredith knew something had happened years ago with Matt, but couldn't keep herself from mentioning the name. Bonnie knew that of anyone, Meredith was least likely to let her get away with silence, and therefore the most likely to accept Bonnie's choice.  
"Matt can go to hell." Bonnie was surprised at the vehemence in her own voice. "You want to know why we broke up, right? Well, to put it plain and simple, I told him that I'd end it if he started drinking again. Guess what he did? He came back to the house drunk and beat me up. I have made up my mind that I will never willingly see his face again." Bonnie did not elaborate any details, because if she did, then Matt would have even more enemies.

"I see. I'm sorry Bonnie…" Meredith trailed off as she found all the horrible memories of that time. She wondered why she had not remembered them until now, even though her memory of them now was excellent. Then it hit her.

"Bonnie!" her friend grinned at her, anger vanished.

"It was to protect him. I couldn't bear the thought of someone killing him because of me, since I still had feelings for the good old Matt that we knew." Bonnie had lost the momentary cheerfulness and her face adopted uncommon seriousness.

"What about Damon? He's on the verge of madness when it comes to protecting people."

"Huh??"

"I mean that when he decides he cares about you, if someone or something hurts you, he goes nuts." Meredith answered calmly.

"Oh." They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes as Meredith navigated the complex maze of one way streets in downtown Salem.

"So where are we going? Anywhere you have your heart set on?" Meredith's body was telling her that she needed to eat actual food, not the crap that they had served her on the airplane.

"How about McGrath's? You like seafood still, don't you Meredith?"

"Of course, stupid, I wouldn't give up seafood for my life!"

"Okay, then turn here and take a left." Bonnie said with a laugh. Meredith complied immediately; the promise of a McGrath's brunch could have been a bribe to do anything in her mind.

A half hour later they were gossiping in a booth that was tucked away in the sunny side of the restaurant.

"He did? Alaric was never so…considerate."

"Well, Alaric has lived less than half a century, Damon has been…existing I guess, for almost five hundred years."

"How old was he when he died? He seems so young."

"He was twenty two, and was in his seventh year at the University. _La università a Firenze._"

"Bonnie, you're getting dreamy again. And, whoa, he must have been fifteen or sixteen when he went." Meredith sipped at her iced tea. Bonnie picked at her salad for a few moments, and then looked up at her friend suddenly.

"I know you don't like talk of Power and things, but I won't trust this to anyone else but you, Meredith. Will you keep it a secret?"

"Of course, when have I ever not kept one?" When Bonnie opened her mouth, Meredith quickly added, "Don't answer that."

"Okay, in my family there is a prophecy, or doom if you want, that the 'first woman let a vampire take her blood will die by her savior's hands.'" Bonnie seemed distraught by this, but she continued nonetheless. "And _Salvatore_ in Italian is 'savior,' which means that I'll die by his hand. And do you know what doesn't make sense, Meredith?" Meredith shook her head, and Bonnie continued, "I can see in his mind and there isn't anything like that in his head for me. For Matt yes, but for me, no."

Meredith was the only human she had ever known that could shield thoughts from Bonnie, which Meredith was doing actively. "I can understand all that. But why would Damon want to kill Matt? Matt is Stefan's friend, and besides, you haven't seen Matt for years."

"Because he left so that Matt would have a chance at marrying me. That's why Damon wants to kill him, Meredith, because Matt disregarded what I told him."

"So you're going to let Damon kill Matt because of something he probably regrets?" Meredith was astonished.

"No, I made a deal with Damon." Bonnie hastily shoved a forkful of lettuce and salmon into her mouth after she said this. They both knew that Elena had, after a great deal of coaxing from both Bonnie and Stefan, told everyone how she had accidentally made a deal with Damon in order to get her diary back from Caroline.

"Bonnie…" Meredith sighed hugely, thoroughly convinced that her friend had truly gone mad. She knew by the look on Bonnie's face that she thought the same of herself.

* * *

Damon was barely listening as he absently answered the questions that Meredith's husband was asking him. He was more interested in the natural witch that the two were raising. _Such a rare occurrence these days,_ he thought to himself. If Meredith herself had been trained by some great line as Avian, or the Frynjar, she might have become a renegade Leader.

"So if a vampire is born in Italy, that's all that is protecting them?"

"Yes." Daniela looked so much like her mother that it almost scared Damon. Of course, he looked remarkably like his own parents, so it was not so amazing if he let his mind reason it out.

"And that means you and Stefan and some other vampires are literally the Untouchables of your society." That brought Damon back from his second reverie of the day.

"Sort of. Any other line of witches can kill an Italian. But most of the time they leave Italian vampires alone because of Monika."

"Who's Monika?" Alaric had a small gleam in his eye at the name. Damon didn't spend the mental energy to figure out what it meant, because he knew immediately. Leaping up from his seat Damon swore vividly in Italian and cried, "You know who Monika Avian is you fool! And if you think for an instant that I would," he swore again, this time in Spanish, "Damn you!" Alaric sat perfectly still, stunned. The human man's mind had less activity inside it than most coma patients. Daniela was staring at him, though not at all perturbed by the sudden outburst.

"Dad's sorry. You should know that. But he sometimes gets, uh, compet-competa-competitive, I think." Damon was startled at how the six year old had retained her reasoning abilities.

"I don't think 'competitive' is the word that you are searching for, but yes, he does get…grating at times." He relaxed and sat down again, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. He noticed that James had begun to focus very hard on the movie he was watching, which caused Damon to laugh a little inside.

Alaric's mental abilities revived themselves after a few minutes, and he began asking questions again as if Damon had not even moved. When the phone rang Damon got up to answer it, partly because he knew who was calling and partly because he was tiring of this game he'd volunteered himself for.

"Stefan! How are you?" His tone could have been called cheery by many humans, but it was loaded with dislike. Damon had the pleasure of hearing his brother swear under his breath. "I heard that Stefan. And after all I've done for you." He sighed.

"Damon, can you put Bonnie on the phone?"

"No." Damon wished that Stefan could have seen the look on his face as he answered.

"Can you tell her to pick me and Elena up?" He could hear the strain in Stefan's voice.

"No." Stefan swore again.

"Why not Damon?" Stefan recovered himself rather quickly in Damon's judgment.

"Because she has been in Salem for _twelve_ hours with Meredith while I've been stuck with Alaric and his brat."

"Damon, if you're going to refer to children as brats, then I have to remind you that Alaric and Meredith have two."

"I knew that Stefan, but they really have a brat. The other one is fine."

"Well can you send Alaric to get us?"

"Don't want to see me after a decade? Come now, I haven't even _attacked_ anyone yet." Damon tried to put a suitable whine into his voice.

"Fine! _You_ come and get us for all I care. Damn it Damon, when will we ever have a civil conversation together?"

"I was keeping it 'civil,' Stefan. Let me remind you that _I_ have not yet resorted to yelling."

"Just get here Damon." The line clicked off sharply in Damon's ear. He set his phone back onto its cradle, smiling to himself at how he had manipulated Stefan yet again. He glanced at Alaric and didn't bother to let the human ask any questions. "I think it went rather well, don't you?"

"Are you always like that to him?" Daniela was gazing placidly up at him from her position beside Alaric.

Damon took his seat next to James on the floor, and then turned around to look at her. "Most of the time. I believe that the last truly _nice_ words I said to him were 'we should skip out on Father's banquets more often, Stefan.'"

"Oh. When was that?" Damon jumped slightly when he heard James speak. _The kid is more interested than I thought_. He thought back, centuries passing in his memories. It had been when he himself was fifteen, and Stefan had just turned twelve. The party had been to ring in a new century and to celebrate the more passive of Giuseppe Salvatore's sons. He turned off the television with his mind and turned towards his audience…

* * *

Okay, I had to edit some of the next bit, which is a flash-back. So be patient.

And Review!


	8. Chapter 8

Well, this is the start of a story which I'll update every week, on sunday mornings. It has 94 pages completed on the word processor. **I don't own Bonnie or Damon, but I do love the idea that they would get together.** I'm sorry that this doesn't even begin to measure up to the longest completed D/B fic on here, Bloodlust. I have read that...and it is the best. Sticks to everything, everyone is normal, no OOC, and Damon gets the redhead. I am happy with that.

This story is set 10 (or something) years after all that (books, not bloodlust) happened. I started writing it about 4 years ago...so it is...ya get it.

And like I said, if you want a good, complete, in-character fanfiction, go read "Bloodlust" because it is awesome.

* * *

Author's Notes: Very sorry for the longperiod of no-updates. I've been busy and...retarded...and stuff...Especially because out of all the in-progress stories which I have...this is the easiest to update so far...just copy&paste stuff. Why? Because it's mostly completed, I'm just uploading stuff here to motivate myself to write more. This is also much easier than my other stories because as you all know, TVDs are pretty short, sweet, and amazing. If I'm stuck I can just shut myself up in a room and read them again. Not so with Avatar, Inuyasha, or Harry Potter...So when I DO get to the end of my pre-written stuff, I won't be crippled like I am on other stories. Happy fun tiemz nao!

* * *

_Previously on B & D:  
_

Damon took his seat next to James on the floor, and then turned around to look at her. "Most of the time. I believe that the last truly _nice_ words I said to him were 'we should skip out on Father's banquets more often, Stefan.'"

"Oh. When was that?" Damon jumped slightly when he heard James speak. _The kid is more interested than I thought_. He thought back, centuries passing in his memories. It had been when he himself was fifteen, and Stefan had just turned twelve. The party had been to ring in a new century and to celebrate the more passive of Giuseppe Salvatore's sons. He turned off the television with his mind and turned towards his audience…

* * *

"I leaned towards Stefan and murmured, 'Do you think Father ordered wood to be put in his collar? He doesn't even bend his head to eat; he looks like he is hurting.' Stefan turned his head a fraction of an inch and gazed at our father. Though it had been nine years since my mother's death, my father still mourned for her, inflicting small punishments upon himself for not loving her more than he had.

"Stefan shook his head, and murmured back to me, 'No, it is that man from _Venezia_ who is trying to marry off his daughters. Have you heard what that sick man has planned?' I looked at the Venetian when Stefan said these words. The man was covered from head to toe in silks, but instead of the expensive furs that my family wore, he had cheap, easily procured pelts lining his cuffs and collars.

"'No I have not heard anything at all about this drunkard.' I was disgusted at how our guest guzzled good wine just as much as the bad and exclaimed over both.

"'Laudamus has three daughters. He plans to marry the youngest, and most likely to give more sons, to our dear father. The oldest, he hopes, will then go to you and the middle to me when I am of age.' Stefan glared at the pompous man who sat next to Father. I half rose from my seat before Stefan pulled me back.

"'Don't get reprimanded on my birthday, Damon! I know how much you loved—love—Mother, but Father won't dare marry someone without our full acceptance.' He hissed to me. I sat back down, furious at the Venetian who tempted my father with women who were both slightly smug and rude. I sat for awhile, contemplating how to send a message to Father about how I felt towards the _Veneziano_.

"'Stefan, lets go to the garden.' I whispered to my brother. He probably gave himself whiplash when he turned toward me. Seeing that I had his attention, I continued, 'Father will be the only one who will notice. I don't mind the punishment he'll give me. Oh I'll cover for you Stefan, but I doubt that he will even consider banning you from anything you enjoy.' Stefan was caught between breaking the rules with me, and choosing to watch Laudamus talk of things that my father hated.

"'Okay, but we can't just _leave_ Damon, they will both notice.' He was nervous and wary of sneaking away from the banquet that Father had planned especially for him.

"'Oh yes we can,' I argued back. 'You leave now, plead sick or something, and I will be out in a few minutes. I doubt the Venetians will miss us.' I goaded him for another twenty minutes while he debated with himself, and finally he agreed. I had a harder time of getting away because Lorena, the youngest and though not the prettiest of women was the nicest and best looking of the three sisters, came to talk to me.

"'_Signore_ Salvatore, I thought since your brother has not returned that you might enjoy some company.' I couldn't help noticing that she didn't wear any rouge or paints on her face.

"'So what is your father planning, bringing three unmarried daughters to a house of three bachelors?'

"'He plans to marry us off to them, of course.' She was cool and distant in her reply.

"I began to think of my brother, who was no doubt by this time in the garden. If I stayed to talk to Lorena, he would never trust me again, yet if I left Lorena there she would be further subjected to her father's behavior. I did what I do best, think on my feet, and I arrived at a suitable answer.

"'I was thinking that I was going to go to the garden, would you like to come with me Lorena?" She was surprised, most likely with my familiarity, especially when she had been quite distant with her greeting.

"'That would be quite nice…Damon. But my father would—'

"'Not approve?' I interrupted her. She smiled a little, and I was shocked to feel a kinship with her. Her father was a pompous, aging windbag and yet…She was so different from him, I could feel it. But if she did not want to escape the dinner, I wasn't going to push her. 'Perhaps another time, Lorena.' I got up and left the table before Stefan burst in and started shouting at me. I found him in the garden, sitting and gazing at the sky.

"'Who held you up?' I chuckled as I sat on the ground next to him.

"'I wish the people I have to smile at every day were like you in some ways, Stefan. Lorena was sent to talk to me. I invited her to join me out here, but…' I sighed, thinking of how she had remembered her propriety. 'She declined.'

"'So the score now stands at Damon zero and women four.' I laughed at how Stefan casually referred to my other failed attempts at platonic relationships. We talked of things that we had shared interests in, which at that time were many. At last I saw that some guests were exiting the main hall of our home.

"'We have,' I commented to Stefan, 'successfully escaped banquet number one.' We laughed all the way back to the main building. As we came up to my room I said, 'We should skip out on Father's banquets more often, Stefan.' He smiled and turned to go to his own room. I watched him go, thinking back to childhood memories of how my mother had loved us both so equally. When I entered my room I felt that something was wrong inside. I entered warily, glancing to the windows and the doorway to my bedchamber.

"'So you think it funny to leave like that, Damon?' I whipped around to see my father leaning on the wall, utterly at ease. Surprise must have shown on my face, because he added, 'I must say though, that the _Veneziano_ and two of his daughters did not notice your exit. Lorena came and told me where you had gone.'

"I was gaping at him by then. I knew that I was not going to like the punishment I was going to get at all. My father was moody when it came to me, mostly because of my likeness to my dead mother. The mood I saw then was the one I most feared because my father was never joking when he was calm. He was both as he leaned against the wall.

"'For a start, Damon, I congratulate you for only having two people notice that you left. For second, I will ask you two questions, and two questions only. Did you talk Stefan into this?' I nodded, my happiness gone. 'And did you think I was going to tolerate this behavior from either of you?' My gaze had dropped from his face to the floor and now it shot back up.

"'No, and that is why I did it. I did something you would not tolerate to show you what _I_ will not tolerate. I won't tolerate a man who praises all of his daughters and then shoves one away to show off another. I will not accept that kind of family to be tied to mine.' He was trying to get in a word then, but I swept on.

"'I would submit if he had not insulted the brightest one that was there. There is nothing wrong with a woman who can read Greek in my mind. He does not respect them as he should. I've seen peasant women in the streets of the city treated with more respect than he shows to even his prize, Lorena. It isn't right Father.' He lifted himself from his position on the wall. My father moved like a cat, like I could—can, and even at his age, of forty-three, he was fitter than most young men that I knew.

"'And that matters? It would take a marriage to you or Stefan or myself to one of the girls to have any chance at change in that family. Lorena is fourteen, a year younger than you Damon. Yes I find it disgusting that a man would think to marry his daughter to a man three times her age, but that is the way of the world we live in.'

"'But Father—'

"'No Damon! I know how you feel about the subject, and I assure you that any hopes of this mockery of a society that I will remarry are unfounded and worthless.' He paused and took several deep breaths. I began to wonder whether he was going to punish me before he squared his shoulders and faced me.

"'No matter what your reasons for leaving the banquet and luring Stefan away with you, I will not permit another occurrence like this one. When this holiday is over, you are going to go to the University in the city. I won't suffer Stefan to be led astray by you even if your intentions are good.'

"And so I was banned from speaking to my brother for three years until he himself was fifteen. I was open in my greeting after being stuck in the city of Florence for years on end with not so much as a letter from home. Stefan was distant with his own and I realized that he had changed from the brother I had known. He had changed into someone I was able to hate."

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	9. Chapter 9

For someone who needs this story. Enjoy :)

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Damon's gaze had traveled up and away from the world and his eyes were glazed. The people who sat near him were riveted on his words and seemed surprised when the flow stopped. He glanced around, his eyes gaining their burning intensity once again.

"I have to go get the object of my disaffection now, if you will excuse me…" He trailed off as he noticed Bonnie standing beside the couch, barely noticeable as she leaned on the wall. _How long have you been here?_ His silent question made life surge into her as she looked at her watch. "Since Stefan headed off to his room." Damon smiled wryly, "You missed about half then."  
"May I come with you to the airport, Damon?"

"Sure, maybe then we'll be spared some of Stefan's criticism."

"Are you two okay with staying here?" Bonnie's attention shifted from Damon to her friend and Alaric. The two nodded their acquiescence.

_Maybe I scared Alaric question-less._ Bonnie giggled as she looked at Alaric as the man stared at Damon.

_Your car, Bonnie._ Damon said to her as he went to her room. He returned with the sweater he had bought for her and a leather jacket. While he put on his jacket, she asked him, "Why Damon?"

"Because mine seats two." She took her sweater from him when he offered it to her and pulled it over her head. Meredith did a double take when she saw the message on it. The wry smile told Bonnie that she approved. She turned and tossed Damon the keys to her car and then set off in a search for her purse.

Damon examined the Mercedes closer this time as he got into it. As he adjusted the rear view mirror, he saw etching on the frame of the piece of glass. The writing said "Love Dad." _So that's where you got this, your father gave it to you._

Bonnie rushed into the garage, looking flustered. "I can't find my purse, Damon. I don't even remember when I last saw it."

"Try your shoulder, Bonnie."

"Oh, thanks." She got into the car, smiling. "Do you want to take the long way or the short way?"

"Which is better?"

"The short way."

"Let's take the long way then." She laughed.

* * *

Stefan wished that for just once, Damon could be anything but a sarcastic and distant weaver of the abstract. Damon had been that way for longer than was pleasant for Stefan to remember, but once upon a time Damon had been a kind older brother. Always a little wild, yes, but kind to Stefan in every way, as if he was Damon's most precious possession.

"Where could he be, Stefan? You called an hour ago." Elena was nervous. She could barely resist Damon's wild nature, and was anxious about seeing him after so many years. To Stefan, twelve years was a blink of an eye, but to Elena…Elena had recovered some of her fear of Damon in that period of time.

Stefan was about to answer when he saw a flick of bright red in the crowds. The humans parted like the Red Sea had for Moses, and he saw Damon, accompanied by Bonnie. His brother was sauntering, one arm thrown in a carefree way around Bonnie's waist, the other swinging lightly at his side.

_Miss me Stefan?_ Damon's voice carried an astronomical amount of Power in it. The fact that he had had Bonnie's blood was made painfully clear to Stefan. Even as he gained this knowledge, Bonnie turned her head upwards to look at Damon and Stefan saw the wounds in her neck. They were the marks of a professional killer, one who had perfected his art. They would be healed within hours.

Elena did not see them until the two were much nearer, and at that distance she couldn't see the wounds that were the brighter red of a new bite. Stefan said in his mind to Damon, _Is that what kept you, Damon? Or are those from before I called?_ His brother tensed slightly, but barely enough for even Stefan to see it.

_Why yes, Stefan._

_You didn't answer my question Damon._

_ Of course I didn't_. Though Damon's voice was light in Stefan's mind, he knew that his brother could turn on him in an instant. He stopped thinking as Damon continued. _If you insist on knowing, yes these are about fifteen minutes old. Don't you see her swaying?_ Stefan did see that Bonnie leaned on Damon more than he thought necessary and that when she moved away from his brother she seemed to be trying not to fall.

"There they are, Stefan. Look at Bonnie…I tried to keep him away from her and now look." Elena was distraught.

"It's been twelve years, Elena. Maybe he has reformed."

He started toward Damon. He couldn't decide whether it was to force Damon to release Bonnie even for a few minutes or to show good will to his brother. Stefan extended his hand to Damon, hoping that his brother would at least act gracious.

"Are Alaric and Meredith here yet?" Elena asked Damon. She was clinging to Stefan's hand so hard that he thought she was going to pull a muscle.

Damon shook Stefan's hand and answered as if Stefan had asked the question. "Yes." Bonnie sensed that Damon was ignoring Elena instead of being weird. _Damon?_ She was quiet in her mental inquiry, she didn't know if Stefan could hear her. The response she got was the barest of glances, but she felt his mind touch hers softly. _Things are different now, and I'm not insanely jealous either._

Damon gave her a mental shrug. _She hates me now, can't you feel it? I wish I had ignored Matt and taken you to Italy, as I had originally planned, because now I wouldn't have this infernal mess._ Stefan and Elena were standing patiently, having gotten their baggage long before.

"Well we should get going then." Bonnie said, thinking to herself that she and Damon had more intimacy than Stefan and Elena had, because Stefan was too weak to communicate with Elena in his mind. Damon could merely open his mind to her and she could tuck her own mind into some corner and simply _exist_.

* * *

It was dark when Matt awoke, to mind numbing pounding in his head. He hadn't had a hangover that bad since…He sharply turned his hazy thoughts away from that last time, but that made his head spin worse and he lost many of his immediate thoughts. What had Caroline said? Stefan and Elena were coming, that was it. Matt tried to remember what else had been said the day before with Caroline. He couldn't without feeling like a jackhammer was going between his temples.

Suddenly above the hammering in his head came an instinctual fear. Matt had felt this before, when Stefan had revealed himself to him. But that was years ago, and when ever Matt had encountered vampires they had shied away from him. No one from Bonnie and Stefan's world ever bothered him. Then he saw the shadow in his window.

He got out of his bed and went to the window, and gazed at the apparition outside of it. _It must be a ghost, a ghost of a settler from the immigration days._ In the last decade Matt had become an expert at rationalizing things. He didn't know when he had obtained this skill, maybe it was when he had been told that Elena was dead and then to have her appear in a classroom at the school. Maybe it was when they had buried the body after exposure to sunlight had ended her life. Or maybe when she had reappeared yet again after six months.

Matt reached up to the glass, just barely touching the pane. The woman on the other side did the same and in a few moments he thought he felt warmth penetrating through to his hand.

_Let me in, Matt._ The voice was soft and musical. The words did not register immediately in his mind but he obediently reached for the latch. When he did process the message, he hurled himself away from the window. The vampire seemed hurt by his rejection, but her hand remained on the glass. Matt wished he could think past the mind control and the hangover.

_I'm not going to hurt you Matt. If you don't want to invite me in, please come out to talk to me, I don't like to talk to you like this._ Matt gazed at her warily. She was probably a little taller than Elena, which made her seem plain and slightly awkward. Her blond hair was a dull color even though it had probably been washed and brushed to the point of falling out. But her eyes made him take a second glance of the rest of her; they were what made her beautiful.

_Please?_ She wasn't even demanding in her tone, she was more like a child who had lost her way. It made him more afraid.

"Why should I?" He knew that she would hear him.

_Because I have protected you from Damon's anger more than once._ Her voice was angry, but her face and posture remained calm. It occurred vaguely to Matt that he was on the second floor of his home. The hangover allowed him that much.

Very resignedly he opened his window and removed the screen. But he didn't give any indication of an invitation. "What is your name?"

"Deria. Deria Kyta." Matt nodded and stuck his hand out of the window, reaching for hers. Deria's skin was cold, and it made Matt shiver. She turned around to face him, her grey eyes showing compassion. Matt backed up; he didn't want compassion, especially when he didn't know why it was being doled out to _him_.

"Matt, you've been beating yourself up for too long." She was moving toward him, so he continued to move backwards unsteadily. "I drew you here, to be with me. You also brought the psychic with you, which I could not help. When you hurt her I did consider telling Damon, but when you gave yourself such harsh self treatment I decided against it." Matt's back thudded against the wall and Deria continued to advance on him. When she reached him she simply put her arms around him, an affectionate hug.

"I'm the last Old One to have not taken a companion. Even if that is all we ever become, Matt, you will be protected from Damon. He _is_ strong and smart and his Powers are impressive, most vampires three times his age aren't half as strong as he is. But if you come with me…He won't dare hurt you."

"What happens if I come with you? Am I to be some pet to admire? What?" Deria raised her head a few inches and gaped at him.

"You think I would do that?" She sounded as if he had hit her. "That is why I have waited for so long to find someone Matt. I didn't want to give someone immortality and then become bored with them." Then she added softly, "And I didn't want them to become bored with me."

"Oh." She released him from her hug, turning around in the room. Matt could hardly believe what he had done. _I am such an idiot._

"Matt…" Deria was advancing on him again, and he was already backed against the wall, so he could not escape her. Although as she leaned forward he couldn't help but see her for all she was. Deria Kyta was beautiful, it must have hurt many of the Old Ones to see her lonely for so long.

"Your fear is gone, why?"

Matt wanted to answer her but his headache was back in full force, compelling him to remember how much alcohol he had ingested several hours ago.

"Poor Matt. Come." She put her arm around him and helped Matt into his own bed. He fell asleep with her hovering above him, humming a lilting tune that somehow soothed his aching body.

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This might not be regular, but I can give you this for now :)


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